Scientific Method
by AlphysArchives
Summary: The annual 'New Labs' acceptance exam will determine who will gain the opportunity to work along side the famed Doctor W.D. Gaster. One student has caught the doctor's eye, but for rather odd reasons. Warning: Mentions of physical and mental abuse, mental trauma, eating disorder. Post-Undertale, Mercy Ending. Complete
1. Chapter 1: Insubordinate

Chapter 1: Insubordinate

He looked down from the balcony into the lobby. Another swarm of students draped in lab coats were filing their way in, each one stiff and rehearsed in their movements. Such formalities with the youth were rather comical to him. He glanced at his schedule, confirming that these were seniors from the scientific university not far from here. All of the youths who arrive here come for the exam that they have dreaded, yet anticipated, their entire educational career. This was their finale. This is what determined who, if any, were suitable to join his colleagues.

The students stopped midway through the lobby, gawking at the glass architecture that made up the room. Just like all the others, they fail to spot him, regardless of being directly up and in front of them. He did not blame them; after all, this was quite an exuberant facility. Located on the edge of the city due to its massive size, these labs were by far the most advanced, and the most advancing.

Well, there was an exam to be taken, and work that the 'Royal' Scientist, a humanoid skeletal monster, had to attend to. Even though the monarchy had given way since monsters had been accepted into society, his title still stood.

Clearing his throat, the students all seemed to snap their heads upwards at once, collectively gaping for a moment, before stiffening into half bows. The scientist was about to chuckle to himself before he noticed a rather blatant outlier. A girl with a series of three to five folders, lab coat a few inches too long, and fumbling with her things, seemed far too intrigued by whatever she was scrawling into that battered notebook of hers. If one did not know better, they would think she was muttering to herself.

The scientists arched his left brow, the one whose movements were not limited by a sweeping scar. Again, he cleared his throat, a bit harsher this time. With her head shot up, the disheveled student suddenly flung her torso down. In doing so, so did two of her folders, half of the papers spilling out. Now everyone knew for a fact she was mumbling to herself.

She scrambled to pick up her things, placing everything in the exact order it was in, while still maintaining the spot in her notebook. _Never seen one like this before,_ the scientist pondered.

"Miss!" the skeletal man shouted. He lowered his brow, his 'lips' flattened to a thin scowl. The youth shook as she stood again, papers still haphazardly splayed about her things.

"Forgive me, Sir, I did- I…" With a self-deprecating whimper, she mimicked her classmates who were almost fearful for her. Almost. What was he to do… Yes, he could let her take the exam, but even if she exceeded him (unfeasibly), her clumsiness and lack of tact were beyond questionable. This person was beyond a typical exam. He began to wonder how she had possibly made it this far.

"Get up here. Now." He waited for her to quizzically look up to him before holding an open hand out towards metal and glass the stairs about forty feet away to the right side. Grasping what she had, the girl scurried over and up the stairs, stopping at the top. Here she was, not only face-to-face with the most renown scientist to man and monster, but was most likely going to be disgraced throughout the entire scientific community by him. Doctor W.D. Gaster was not known to have been a very merciful monster to those outside of his community. Whether or not these were stories or the truth, it did not matter to her right now.

"Come here." He hissed, sliding his hands behind his back. Shivering violently, the girl shuffled her way forward. Everyone had full view of whatever was about to occur, and knowing her classmates, this only made everything far more sickening. She stopped, head and eyes training on the tiles in front of the man. He towered over her 5'3" form, reaching at least 6'7".

"I am sure you are_ quite_ aware," the doctor started, eyes gleaming through the base of his rectangular glasses. "of the situation that you have put yourself into. Should you have been conducting a crucial experiment and something went wrong, not only would the experiment be compromised, but as would those around you and yourself. I should not have to remind _anyone_ at this stage of your education of this." He glances at the crowd of gawking students as he emphasized his point, returning his glare to the child before him. "… Well?"

Seemingly gasping to breath, the girl solemnly nods.

"Of course, Doctor Gaster. I have no excuse."

"And do tell, what is it that you could have been so enthralled in that you were distracted from a lab of this caliber?" Gaster crossed his arm, clipboard having gone somewhere else while his hands were hidden. "And for stars sake, lift your head up, stand at attention, and right yourself!"

Shuddering deeply, the girl did as she was told, pulling her coat properly back onto her shoulders, arranging her notes to the crook of one arm, and finally dared to look the famed scientist in the face. 'Desolate' is all that came to her mind. She had to remind herself that she was asked a question.

"I-I had been going over calculations I had made into a theory I have been researching. I cannot seem to get through to it, but it is not important. I should have been paying attention. My work is by no means publishable." Struggling to stay focused on maintaining eye contact, she shifted her gaze several times from him to her book to the floor and back again to him. His nasal socket seemed to perk on one side.

"And what 'theory' may this be?" He unhooked his arms, holding out a hand towards her notebook. How had she forgotten about the circular holes going through his palms? Handing over the book, she fessed up.

"It's actually in relation to your theory, Dr. Gaster, about interdimensional relations. I was not trying to change it, I was just trying to see if I understood it and if it could be used in a different avenue, or… I did not mean to seem as thou-" A raised hand stops her ramblings. White pupil-like specs grazed the pages of the book, dexterous finger bones slipping from one page to the next. An accusatory pupil pinned the girl.

"And you know what you have written? You have dedicated your personal studies to this?" His voice unwavering as his immobile look.

"Yes, Dr. Gaster, that is correct." She said robotically.

"Good." He grabs a few of the pages. "Then it will mean nothing to you if I did this…" Without a single warning, the pages are lacerated from their bindings before being halved twice and abandoned to the floor with what was rest of the notebook. Mouth agape and eyes burrowing out, the youth had to do all she could from scrambling to pick up months of her work from the feet of her superior. Students below seemed to bear the same reaction. The doctor snapped a finger from his side, forcing attention to be brought back to him.

"If this truly is something you worked on," he gestured to one of the many tables lining the middle of the balcony floor, his clipboard having been placed on it, as well as designated stacks of blank papers and cups of pens intermittently spread out every few tables. "then you will have no problem replicating it."

Something seemed different as a sense of understanding washed over the young girl. Immediately, she sat down in one of the chairs, pulled a few pages from the stack and began furiously reproducing her altered version of her superior's work. Diagrams and equations and symbols littered the fronts and backs of every page she touched. As she reached for more, the stock of paper was pulled out of her reach.

"I have seen enough." Gaster plucked the pen from her hand, returned it to its holder, and proceeded to pick up the torn pages and book from the ground.

"Your work is by no means genius, far from it… but I know a critical thinker when I see one." The scraps of pages are neatly returned to their original home, and placed beside the girl. The scientist seems to ponder a moment. "I also know wh-…" All else was a muffled blur to the girl. Unable to focus on much of anything, her head lulled about on its axis, occasionally pivoting dangerously to the side. Unaware of how long this had gone on for, mere milliseconds or minutes, firm hands clasped onto her shoulders. The end of each digit seemed to press into the tender skin just to the side of her clavicle.

Pulling her eyelids open that she did not know were closed, her vision seemed to get closer to her, as did her hearing. _Ah, tunnel vision_, she thought through her blankness. Her hands attempted to reach for her head, but they only seemed to twitch occasionally.

"… -ocus on keeping your eyes open, attempt to move your arms… I presume you can hear and see now?" An off-white figure peeked out of the top right of her vision. _Is he a doctor? He looks like one. When did I go to a doctor, or did they come here?_ Thoughts crawled in her head. She just wanted to lie down. Lie down and sleep. She was so tired. So little sleep. Wanted to…

"Come back to me, now, you're alright." The easing voice broke her out of her stupor again. "You-…" A focused look drew onto his face. "Your pupils are dilated. You are more than just hyperventilating." Something cold pressed to her head, the draping sleeve telling it was his hand, before coming pointedly to the side of her neck. "Give me a moment…" The monster stood, walked to the bewildered crowd.

"All students and their faculty are to report to the exam room. No one is to leave until my word. Is that understood?" His voiced brandished a hint of spit. The students glanced silently to one another, a few to their professors. A colleague of Gaster escorted them further into the building before a 'Yes, sir' could be given.

"Still there, child?" A few more figures came around her, all dressed alike.

"Dr. Gaster," A meek female spoke, "we do not have any room to hold her. Perhaps she could be transported elsewhere?" A pondering hum responded.

"This is more than just exhaustion. Bring the necessary equipment for a blood sample to my office." Softly scooping the youth up from the chair by her knees and back, she was suddenly stirred from the almost out of body state she had been in. The movement kickstarted her blood back into her head. Blinking and starting to move about, she looked to who her capture was. Before she could get a word in, he firmed his grip and kept his eyes forward.

"Do not worry, you will be fine. A simple test and we will know how to help you feel better, alright?" His words were simple, as though his normally studious, and almost superfluous, speech would not have been perceived.

_Right, yeah. He's a doctor, I'll feel better… right_… Just about immediately after settling into relaxing, it dawned back to who just who was carrying her, and to who knows where!

"Wai- I- no it's okay, I'm-" She struggled as politely as she could to be put down, but it did not even budge the doctor.

"Stop this, I understand this is strange and confusing, but just bear with me here." He calmed. Doing as she was told, she stopped fighting, but refused to relax. "I will explain when we get you someplace a bit more appropriate. The lobby of the facility is no such place." He slid his hand from under her knees forward away from them, then back again. A metal door swooped open almost silently.

Stepping into the room, the bright, sun-filled halls gave way to French grey walls. The room seemed as though it did not belong in such a place. A rich, wood desk gazed towards the large, but single window in the room. A few piles of studies messed the desk, but overall organized on either side of a computer. If one looked closely, there were knickknacks that spotted the desk. The entire right wall was about a ten-foot-long bookshelf, entombed with sophisticated manuscripts and the likes. Footsteps fell silent upon a grey rug; clear paths having been scuffled into it through wear. Gaster walked into the room, and set the girl onto the old, brown leather couch to the left. Glancing up as the doctor made his way to his desk, she took note to just how… homey the room was.

"My personal study, if you were wondering." The doctor returned with a rolling chair and a fresh clipboard with blank documents on it. "We don't have any medical beds available at the moment, and I positive you would not wish to be there. Our patients would only be a bother to you in your mentally inhibited state." Sitting along side the couch, he began writing. "I do believe I have missed your name." His pen paused. The girl hesitated. _Was this really the same W.D. Gaster that everyone spoke about? Why were you here, in his personal office, being asked for informati_\- "Are you alright?" His head tilted as though looking deeper into her expression, gauging if she was passing out.

"Uh, y-yeah… What did you ask, my apologies."

"Your name, child." Again, she hesitated.

"Clara Avery." He nodded, clarified the spelling, and continued to write for a bit before looking up again.

"Alright, so obviously you're not well. After you passed out, I spotted a pin prick on the back of your neck. Any ideas as to why that is there?" It was more of a statement than a question. As expected, Clara shrugged, reaching her hand to said spot. Dr. Gaster sighed softly. "I figured. We will do a quick blood analysis to determine whether or not this is related to a possible drugging. It is a rather crass mark, but I can tell it was made by some sort of needle. And the fact that it is crass, also tells that it most likely was administered by an amateur and probably while you were awake." Clara's face speculated, her mind finding a bit of traction to coherently think.

"Wow wow, hold on a second. So, you meant to tell me that with all of the other students around, I was injected with a drug? I must apologize, but I find that rather unlikely." He nodded sympathetically.

"And who do you think was surrounding you for probably the past half hour on the way here? I have heard of people doing some pretty brash things to get to the top." Gaster was about to continue when a knock sounded on the door. "Ah, must be the supplies." He mumbled, getting up and pressing a button that opened the door. Another scientist pushed a small cart with small baskets of various things inside and beside the chair Gaster had just occupied. "Thank you, Peonia." The door slid closed and the doctor returned to his spot. "You are not nervous about blood work, correct?" He began picking things here and there from the baskets. Clara instantly recognized the butterfly needles and vials, and started worrying the inside of her lower lip.

"Not really." By far, the most unconvincing statement she has said so far today.

"'Not really?' No matter how you say that, there is still the slight inclination that you are nervous. I am not some new nurse in a walk-in clinic who does not even give you their name before sticking you seven times unsuccessfully." He pauses and gives her a soft smile. "You'll be fine. If you could actually lie down, that would be better, seeing as how you have already passed out once before. Eaten anything today?" Scooting down so she was on her back, legs still up, she shrugged.

"A little, about four or five hours ago or so."

"And you were going to take my exam on a practically empty stomach, with who know how little sleep?" A rubber strap was wrapped around Clara's bicep, an alcohol wipe sanitizing the crook of her left arm. "I sometimes wonder just how smart college students really are. Don't get me wrong," The butterfly needle was pricked in. "I have had, and still have, endless nights mulling over book after book," New vial. "trying to find some sort of inkling to an answer." New vial. "But regardless, it is still crucial to maintain your own health in order to find that answer to better the health of others." New vial.

"How much… do you need?" Gaster looked up quizzically.

"There are thousands of drugs out there, and I'm sure you do not wish to be stuck twice in one day because we did not have enough for testing." Finally, the needle and strap are removed, and replaced with some cotton. Gaster tossed the needle into a red, lidded bin, and pulled out a fat envelope. "Know what these are?" He pulled out packs of what appeared to be chlorine test strips for a swimming pool. Clara shook her head, even though she had a pretty decent idea as to what they were. Her head was getting a bit cloudy again, throat feeling tighter as a hint of nausea set in. "They will tell me what drug types, if any, are in your system. Once we know what kind of drug it is, we can give you something to hopefully combat the symptoms. That and give us a rough estimate on how long said symptoms will last." Clara nods sluggishly.

Again, Gaster places his hand on Clara's forehead, his thumb slightly petting her. His brow worried.

"Each time you get hit with another wave, you look worse and worse. Probably means that you were not drugged too long before passing out the first time. Once a big wave hits, you will feel better from there, but I cannot guarantee how long that will take. Just close your eyes and try to rest." Without any fuss, the young student let her eyes close and her mouth drop to a slight glower.

The more time passed, the more she was grateful that she had not eaten anything in a while. At times, she wished that she would just pass out again to ride out the worst of whatever was in her without feeling it. Rolling onto her side, she panted for cool air, but everything just felt humid and compressed around her throat. Occasionally, Gaster's hand would find her forehead absentmindedly. Were all skeleton's hands so pleasantly cool, or was she just that desperate for anything that was not broiling?

"Awake?" An unintentionally pathetic whimper confirmed. "I am very sorry for how you are feeling. I did find what you were drugged with, but it is something that you will just have to wait to leave your system. It shouldn't be any more than four hours since it had been administered, so only two and a half more hours to go, I speculate. I can't give you anything to stop this, but if you want anything, water, the window opened, I would be more than happy to oblige." A few seconds of serene silence gave way a cracked whisper.

"Window, if you can?" Without a word, Gaster stood and opened the bottom of the window and cracked the top. Clara could already feel the air circulating, the early spring chill easing the knot in her throat as she greedily breathed it in.

With his soul at a slight easy, Gaster returned his chair to his desk and sat before his mounding work. A few moments later, he took note to the deep and even breaths behind him that signaled to him that Clara had fallen asleep. Or at least he presumed it was, as opposed unintentional loss of consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2: Opportunities

Chapter 2: Opportunities

Time carried on and the doctor occasionally forgot about his guest. A soft grunt of the couch told him that she was most likely awake.

Glancing behind him, Gaster saw Clara was indeed awake, but not all there. Heavy eyes looked at the blanket that was draped over her before seeming to nod off again. With a sharp inhale and righting herself into a sitting position, Clara shot her attention to the monster watching her. The doctor gave her a simple smile.

"How are you feeling? You slept for a while there." He stated, glancing at his silver watch that border lined on gawdy. This did not surprise Clara; he must be loaded what with all his published findings and research. Time had gone on for about two hours while the girl recovered, making it now about one in the afternoon.

"Uh… I feel just fine, Dr. Gaster, thank you. I believe I have kept you long enough. I will return to my class now." She spoke just above a mutter, guilt and regret tinging at the corners of her eyes. Sleeping in the personal office of the great Doctor W.D. Gaster, having to be pulled aside for her insubordinate behavior, not to mention acting is such a disrespectful way… This whole experience mortified her.

Gently folding the blanket back onto the back of the couch, she stood and looked about for her things a moment. Gaster had not withdrawn her eyes from her, pondering. _Perhaps she is still inhibited? It should have worn off enough to not be outwardly noticeable by now. Shy thing probably believes that I think her stupid._ Getting up himself, Gaster openly gestures for her to sit down again.

"I do believe that my train of thought was interrupted before when you passed out. I still wish to speak with you about your work." Baffled, confused, and at a loss for words, Clara slinked onto the edge of the couch, spine so straight it would crick anyone's back just looking at it.

"Now, Miss Avery…" He plucked the worn student's notebook from the corner of his desk, opening to a few pages that still remained. "As I was saying prior, your work is not genius. It is not publishable. It is as clumsy as you are." Clara's head drooped, chin curling inwards a bit. "But… I have spotted a few things in your notes that I had not thought to look at. Perhaps I was the fool when I had worked on this theory, but these are most certainly work looking into. If this," He held the notebook beside his head. "is what you have been working on, then I am impressed. This work is clever and cheeky, as is some of the best. Obviously, you are young and not as keen as my colleagues and I." Gaster held out the notebook under Clara's face, hinting for her to take it, his hand still out to her after she accepted it.

"But I think I will take a gamble." Turning his hand vertically, he reached out for hers. "Would you consider working here? I do not need an answer right this moment, but promise me you will consider it."

If Gaster did not know better, he would have been worried she was losing consciousness again, silent and still. Gradually, she positioned her hand next to Gaster's, looking up with her head still lowered as if for permission. She bit the corner of her upper lip and nodded before taking his hand as though it was a pressure sensitive bomb. A smile lit up the doctor's face as he clasped her hand with both of his.

"Then I look forward to your answer, Clara Avery." With a sharp nod, he let go of her hand as it just stayed there. Had she just… shaken hands with Doctor Gaster? _Wait… WORKING HERE!?_ The pandemic realization in her mind did not transfer to her face, nor her body. "Is your hand alright?" Gaster asked sarcastically, a smirk twinging his feature. Embarrassed, Clara returned her hand to her lap with the other. Gaster glanced at his watch yet again.

"I suppose I should see as to those exa- The students!" Gaster shouted so suddenly that he seemed to startled himself, a hand flying to his mouth. "Wait here!" Without another word, he practically clambered out of the office, leaving a very confused Clara.

_ Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!_ Thanking his height for his long strides, Gaster scrambled through the halls, down the balcony, and down the hall the students had gone down hours ago. A female human waved him down in the distance, outside the room he had designated for the exams. Grinding his feet into the tiled floor and his hands steadied on her shoulders, a hand stopped his train of thought before he could begin.

"Calm down, Dr. Gaster," The woman cooed. "Everything is taken care of. Exams are finished, belongings searched, and students interviewed. We have all the findings we can get from them. At this time, the cleaning staff are already searching the waste bins for needles and drug bottles. The city's bins just outside the facility have been locked shut and we will search them when the town designates us to." Almost pridefully, she smooths Gaster's hands from her blue blazer, rousing the monster from his shocked stupor. Standing at full height, he stoned his face as he took the offered documents from her. Within were the exams, written report of belongings, and student statements. Sighing, Gaster's shoulders slumped.

"Thank you, Nadia. If anything had gotten out about this before we were able to do a proper investigation, I would be dealing with months of damage control. Not to mention possible lost evidence. Any of these testimonies worth noting?" He fingered through the pages, most of them with 'No useable information' inked into them.

"Unfortunately, not much. One student mentioned how the girl had been lagging behind in the group most of the way into the lab, decreasing the number of witnesses, if any."

"And what about their dorm rooms? Chances are there has to be some form of evidence. There are only about thirty students or so, it should not take that long to conduct. This is a federal crime of non-consensual drugging, hiding of evidence, lying to authorities, and blatant endangerment; the school will have no qualms about complying." Going through to the last page, the scientist returned his attention to the lady in blue.

"Trust me, Doctor, you do not need to remind an officer of the laws broken here. They have been contacted and have agreed. Some of the other officers should be there by now. How is she doing?" Nadia's composure seemed to seep to a look of sympathy and concern.

"She is fine now; the drug has worn off, I believe. I have her medical report up in my office, which I forgot in my rush to get here. I will bring her to her dorm after I get it to you."

"Oh, she's a commuter. I was told she lives alone in an apartment about half and hour away from the college." She reached into the pile in Gaster's hands and brought forward a paper with the stated information provided by a student.

"Of course, I forgot to ask her that; I should not have assumed. I will go finalize the report with her. Feel free to follow." Rubbing the side of his bare head, his glasses skewing. Joking to himself, he wondered if he was drugged as well; this was far too much drama for one day, and it was it was barely the afternoon.

Upon returning, Clara stiffened from her slumped posture. Her eye caught onto the officer who offered a compassionate smile.

"Clara, this is officer Na- er, officer Schnyder." Again, he mussed up his face in his hand as he nearly slipped the officer's first name. "She helped take care of seeing as to who may have drugged you. Schnyder, this is Clara Avery." Nadia Schnyder crouched and offered her hand.

"I am glad to hear that you are feeling better. We'll do what we can to figure this out as soon as we can." She promised. Clara meekly nodded, seeming to relax a little as she appreciated how thoughtful Schnyder was. Gaster came by with his clipboard, the same document on it as before about Clara.

"I just want to verify so of this information with you, Clara." Sitting beside her on the couch, Gaster and Clara mulled over the paper with nods, head shakes, and mumbles. "Okay," he said removing the paper from the clip and offering it to Nadia, "that should do it."

"Thank you, Dr. Gaster. I shall take my leave then!" With a handshake to Gaster and a soft nod to Clara, the officer left as the door slid closed behind her, only for a knock to pound rapidly on it immediately after. Alerted, Gaster reopened to door. There stood one of the students from the class, dropping into a deep bow.

"Doctor W.D. Gaster, I apologize profusely for the intrusion, but I must request that Clara Avery come back with us." Taken aback, Gaster looked to Clara as if for clarification. He returned his attention to the youth, tone stern.

"And you are?"

"Ah yes, I am Kyle Brenton." He stood straight, a conceded smile playing on his face. Gaster's visage did not waver.

"And your relation to Miss Avery?" Brenton's expression almost gave way.

"I am her partner, Dr. Gaster. I wish to make sure she returns home safely; I will drive her back myself." He stated. The doctor stared deeply at the man. He was tall for a human, roughly 6'2"; but when next to the tower of a scientist, it seemed almost laughable. Looking to Clara, he searched for her approval, but she only glanced between the two.

"You may speak with her, but I will be the one bringing to her home. No offense to you, but I do not know of you, nor of your ability to drive." Turning and stepping to his desk, Gaster left him to enter on his own.

Kyle hesitated to step in as though he would be scolded for stepping on the carpet wrong. After a few steps, he rushed and squatted in front of Clara. His face crushed in on itself, hidden from the scientist as he was facing away from him. Barely audible to himself, he hissed and spat.

_ "What was that, faking all of this for some bullshit? You and your disgusting notes, I should have burned that crap when I told you to._" Clara only looked down and nodded. "I'm so glad that you're okay now… sorry about missing the test, maybe next year?"

_ Foolish child_… Gaster thought. It was not difficult for him to listen in on the insults and false concern. His hearing was always rather impeccable. Silently turning around to the student's back, he grimaced and folded his arms. Clara had not noticed, her head bowed too far into her chest. The man continues…

_ "Whatever this drug shit is, it doesn't matter; you would have failed anyway. You better text me when His Royal Scientist returns you, got it?"_ He gave a short yank on her forearm.

"I would hope she wouldn't…" The glowering threat spoke over his shoulder. Spinning, but forgetting where his feet were, Kyle stumbled onto the floor. "You said you were her 'partner.' Do tell, what sort of partner treats the other as though a toddler, as though you own her, as though you are _above_ her?" Kyle scrambled to his feet, backing towards the door. "If you treat her like this in my presence, I dare not think of what you act like alone. I will have you know she is a brilliant scientist for her age, and I would be honored to have someone like her aboard my team! I could destroy your entire career and all hopes of being in the scientific community in a picosecond, and do not think I won't." Backed against the door, Kyle pathetically cowered into the collar of his shirt, expression quivering. Gaster opened the door, mercilessly letting the youth fall onto his rear before clambering away. "Should I hear you so much as speak a word to Miss Avery, you will find yourself behind bars!" He howled out the doorway before closing it yet again.

Huffing with a heel turn, Gaster saw the just as frightened girl shivering from the couch. Slowly walking to her, a guilty frown brushed over him.

"Clara, I am sorry… But someone like that…" He went to crouch in front of her, but wound up settling onto the floor, shoulders slumped. "Why would you be with someone like that? I have not heard more than five sentences from him, and I feel like I just saw him absolutely desecrate you verbally. … Please tell me it's only been verbally?" A hand ghosted onto her knee. She refused to look at him, not even his hand. She did not want this right now, much less at all. "Please…?"

"He hasn't punched me in the face or anything…" Gaster was not satisfied with this answer.

"And what else is 'anything?' I swear, if he… damn it…" His hand slipped off before he stood back up to recess into his chair. Bouncing his knee, he stood again, hands grasping at hair that was not there, pacing and siphoning air through crumpled nasal passages. He slowed, smoothing his hands down the back of his skull with a defeated sigh. "We'll… talk about this later. Just don't talk to him and _stay away_." Deciding to recede to the spot beside her, he placed an arm across her shoulders with a small squeeze. "Okay?"

"Okay…" her voice cracked, brows coming together as her chin tensed. Great, not now, of all times to want to cry. Gaster did not seem to catch her distraught features.

"Good. Like I said, we will talk later about this." He flopped back against the couch with a prominent sigh, resigning from all this emotion.

"For now, I need a drink and some good food." He tilted his head to Clara. "Wanna come? I often go with my colleagues, you haven't eaten in hours, and I'd rather not leave you as such when I bring you home." _Who is this guy, all of a sudden_? Clara thought. 'Wanna,' 'haven't,' falling onto the couch like that, everything was suddenly so informal. It would have been incredibly rude to have denied him. Good food hopefully did not consist of a triple digit check. She nodded and Gaster smiled. "Excellent."

Hoisting himself up with a hint of a newfound energy, he shed his lab coat and draped it over the back of his chair. A beige, ribbed turtle neck sweater slung around him, black slacks hung down to pristinely polished dress shoes. Settling some papers around and clicking off his desk light, he pulled on a black, fabric coat that reached his knees. A leather and sleek messenger bag was placed onto his shoulder.

"Did you have a coat? I did not see them with your belongings." He asked, handing Clara her book and folders from his desk.

"Yeah, it's in my car. Where is this place, I might have to look it up on my map?" Standing, she accepted her things.

"No need, I'll drive us. I don't want you driving just yet; not till you've eaten something and gotten some proper rest." Placing a deft hand to her back, he ushered her out of the room with him. Before she could protest to his offer, Clara silenced herself. At this point, she knew there was no room for discussion with him.

Reaching the lobby and out the main doors, Gaster let Clara retrieve a few of her things from her car: grabbing her coat and scarf, she replaced her notes back to the passenger seat before returning to her superior. They walked around the corner of the building to a decently sized parking lot designated for employees only. Near the very front stood a black Masarati Quattroporte, waxed and shined to the point where it looked like it belonged on a show floor. Doctor Gaster pulled his keys from his pocket, remote started the beast with a smirk, and went for the driver's seat.

Wait, was she supposed to_ sit_ in that? She did not even want to get close to the thing, as if her reflection would desecrate the beauty before her. Gaster stopped halfway into the car, trying his hardest not to smile at her dumbfound look.

"Well, are you coming?"

"_This_ is _yours?_" Clara nearly squawked.

"Indeed." He disappeared below the roof of the car. Still shocked, Clara slinked forward, taking a moment before grabbing and opening the door. Gaster's seat was practically in the back what with his height. She thought a convertible would have been a better choice for him for a moment, but changed her mind when she saw the childish grin on his face. He must love this car. Gingerly sitting down, Clara slowly latched the door and buckled herself in.

Pulling out and away from the labs, the silent engine made its way towards the neighboring town to the city. Clara recognized the town, having preferred her shopping to a large town than a city. It had a nice community and good shops. Driving down a few streets, Gaster pulled into a parking lot beside a building with a simple neon sign, wood doors, and what appeared to be orange lights inside.

"Ever been here before?" Gaster questioned, shutting off the beast.

"I couldn't see the name from the angle we came." She shrugged and Gaster chuckled.

"You would know if you've been here. No one forgets going to Grillby's." He said, swinging out of the car. Clara followed suit, looking to the brick building. Wasn't Grillby's the bar that typically only monsters attended? Now she was nervous. Not only has she never been in a bar before, regardless of being 24, but most certainly not a bar famous among monsters. She was not a racist, but fear of being seen as one. Leading her by her shoulder, Gaster neared them to the doors, releasing her to walk in first to hold the door behind him.

Booths on the right and tables strewn about on the left and middle, they walked to the bar straight ahead. Retreating into her scarf, Clara watched as every set of eyes glanced from her to the doctor and back to her. Gaster shed his coat to a coat rack to the right of the bar, next to what appeared to be a drastically old jukebox, and he reached for hers in return. There goes her scarf to hid in…

Sitting only a few stools from the jukebox, which seemed to be playing some form of electric swing, Gaster gestured for you to sit to his left. Just as Clara had done so, a kitchen door to the left most of the bar swept outwards. A monster in a black vest, white button down, black half apron around his waist and black slacks, and a bowtie to finish it emerged. The oddly formal wear was not what was intriguing, but the fact that this monster was a humanoid fire elemental was. Instead of being afraid of the walking hazard like most humans would, there was something calming about him. Shallow, rectangular glasses with black arms sat on his thin nose, nearly hiding his eyes. Shaped much like human eyes, his irises seemed to be just a lighter variation to his flames.

It was not until the elemental caught sight of the new arrivals at his bar that he showed an inkling of lips. A knowing smile spread across his face as he sauntered up to them from behind the bar.

"Glad to see ya didn't collapse yet, G." The alto fire chuckled, snips and snaps gracing his laugh. He stretched out his hand to the scientist.

"Could say the same to you, old friend." Grabbing each other's forearms, they shared a smile. The 'old friend' turned to Clara.

"New recruit?" It seemed to be directed towards Gaster, so Clara kept quiet.

"Possibly, it's her decision. Thought I'd bring some company today." Gaster answered. The fire nodded at this information. Tilting his head sideways and slightly down, he placed a hand to his chest.

"Pleasure to meet you. I am Grillby, I run this bar." It was no wonder these two were friends, each far too formal.

"Nice to meet you too…" Clara mumbled as she looked into her lap where her hands fidgeted. This place set her on edge. She swore people were still looking at her. Grillby reaching his hand out, palm up, to her.

"And your name?" She was such a ditz, why was she constantly forgetting to tell people her name today? Using the excuse of the residual drug that had definitely left her system by now, she reached gently to the fire's hand.

"Clara Avery." She mumbled. Giving a slow nod, and lifting her hand a moment, he stood back up.

"Pleasure, Clara. Now what can I get for you two to eat?" Grillby shifted to lean one hand on the bar. Gaster spoke casually.

"Usual." With a nod, Grillby turned to the back bar, reached into a lower cupboard, and withdrew a maroon bottle. Pouring a stemless wine glass, he held it a moment as his hand glowed a bit brighter, swirling the glass. He slid it to Gaster before replacing the cork and the bottle. As Gaster savored a sip, Grillby looked to the meek youth.

"Anything for you, turtle?" He asked. Gaster sputtered as he started laughing. The bartender raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you always feel the need to give people nicknames?" The scientist chortled. Crossing his arms, the Grillby shifted to one foot.

"Well I call you 'G,' and you have no problem with it. Would you prefer Wi-" Gaster immediately cut him off, scatting random sounds to get the elemental to stop.

"Don-Don't you _dare_! I can easily tell everyone yo-"

"_Don't!_" Silence fell between the men, an unspoken agreement to drop the discussion. Grillby exhaled, heat waves visibly following his breath. "I called her 'turtle' because she's hiding and shy. Be glad I don't call you things based off of your personality, begrudged bat." The playful banter started up again.

"Oh really? Actually, I quite like that one." Gaster said matter-of-factly, giving a quick flash of his canines. Even Clara rolled her eyes at this. Sharing their reaction, Grillby turned to his other patron.

"_Any_way, what'll you have?" Clara had not thought about what she would have actually wanted to eat. Never having been to a bar before, and barely had anything that could be respectfully called a decent meal in weeks, she struggled over what to say.

"I'm fine, thanks-" Clara was cut off by a disgruntled scientist waving her words away.

"No, you're eating. End of discussion." Turning back to his drink, Gaster's name was called from one of the far booths. Before leaving, he turned to Grillby. "She needs to eat something, it's on me." Watching as her superior left, she spotted a leery look from a patron. Swiveling back to the bar, she kept her head down and her shoulders hunched. I s_uppose I do look like a turtle, _she thought.

"Clara, you really should eat something. Gaster does not force people to eat without a good reason. Anything in particular that you like?" Grillby soothed. He had lowered his voice and placed his elbows in front of Clara. She shrugged. "Fries?" She worried her lip.

"I… can't eat anything fried. Sorry." Her chest tightened. Why was she even here, why couldn't Gaster have just dropped her off at her place? Grillby pondered, looking to some undetermined point above Clara's head.

"I've got'cha." Standing up, he walked back towards the presumable kitchen before he let out a whistle with his lower lip. "G!" He tugged his head towards the kitchen. As he left, Gaster returned to Clara's side.

"Sorry about that, haven't seen the people here in a while." He apologized, sitting back at the bar.

"It's okay. You can keep talking to them if you want." Clara nearly whispered. She did not want to be alone, not by any stretch of the word, but she did not wish to be a leash for her superior either.

"No, that's alright. Not much to catch up on between us anyway. Did you order something?" Gaster tried to look under to her face before she looked up questioningly to him.

"I… think I did? He said 'I've got'cha' and left, so I guess so?" Nodding, Gaster smirked as he looked to his drink. Clara did not know much about alcohol, not caring for anything of the sort, but she could have sworn that was mulled wine in his hand; there was distinct heat coming off of it and the hint of cinnamon on her nose. Who has mulled wine on hand at a bar nowadays? A few minutes passed and the bartender returned with two things in hand. A simple burger and fries were placed in front of Gaster, while the other went in front of Clara. Grillby picked up a glass from behind him and began going about his work.

"I hope you don't mind grilled chicken." Indeed, it was a grilled chicken breast on a burger bun, swiss cheese melted over the perfectly cooked meat. He turned and placed a light red drink in front of her as well, a few cherries sinking into their bath. Clara had not had a Shirley Temple in years!

"I do, actually." Suddenly, she was feeling rather pecking, gently taking the meal in her hands and taking a bite. This was more than just a diner sandwich. The chicken was cooked to just the right point where the inside was cooked, but still seeped juices. The cheese was not just some cheap wholesale either, nor were the buns. Gaster smirked at Grillby.

"Done it again, Grillby." Clara looked to him, still chewing on her first real meal in so long. "He has this weird thing where he knows just what to give people who are indecisive. He has yet to get two wrong." He sipped between bites. Grillby's expression dropped.

"It's called intuition, G. It _would_ have been zero wrong if you weren't such a weirdo, ordering a drink from the damn 1940's." He turned to Clara. "He came in one day, not knowing what to have. I had presumed a good quality merlot, but he had asked for mulled wine instead. Mulled wine and a burger!" Grillby exasperatedly gestured towards Gaster's full mouth. "I may own a bar, but even I know that those things do not go together. A steak, perhaps, if you pushed your luck. But someone had to be a tasteless skeleton and ruin my track record." Gaster rolled his eyes.

Time went by as Gaster and Grillby chatted away between customers and bites of food. Eventually, Clara seemed to relax, no longer feeling as though she should be on edge of the other patrons. The background chatter seemed to die down. Stealing a glance over her shoulder, Clara noticed only a few people left in the bar. How late was it? Seeing the two monsters distracted by conversation, Clara slipped her smart phone out of her pocket and saw it was only just before seven. Were there odd rushes that left a dead zone mid-service?

A sudden outburst of music originated from Gaster. Swooping off his seat, he wretched his phone out of his pocket, swiping to answer it, and held up a single finger as he walked a few feet away. Stealing glances at one another, Clara had to inquire to Grillby.

"Was his ringtone… Royalty?" The elemental smirked.

"The hip-hop electric swing song? Yes, yes it was." A look that only screamed 'blackmail' played across his face, causing the 'turtle' to try to hold back giggles. She did not have to for long though, as Gaster's hushed voice told the phone call was not the most uplifting, back turned to the others.

"… You're _kidding_ me… I know, I had jus- yes, I know who they are… I saw… I guess I had just hoped I was wrong… Mm-hm… Okay, thanks, Nadia… I will, I'll be on the lookout… Bye." Swiping his phone to hang-up, Gaster slumped into the empty booth next to him, head in hands. Having not heard Nadia's first name before, Clara had no idea that it had been officer Schnyder. A moment passed and Gaster stood back up, pulling himself back to the bar, but not sitting.

"Hey, uh… Grillbz, can we uh…" He pointed a thumb to the kitchen, keeping his head down as he rubbed his upper lip. Now thoroughly worried, the elemental and turtle shared a concerned look.

"Sure, Gaster. Uh… just… wait here, Clara." Giving an apology, the bartender followed the already departing skeleton.

Grillby found his friend slowly pacing the floor of the kitchen, one arm crossed over his chest, the other still rubbing his lip. He knew this only reeked of bad news.

"What was that about?" Grillby started, speaking calmly knowing Gaster could be on a tipping point here. He kept pacing. "Gaster?" Stepping towards the scientist, Grillby interrupted his path. Looking up from the floor, Gaster closed his eyes, sighed, and walked towards the old two-person couch in the far corner. Grillby often used this to nap between prepping food and opening for service. Grillby followed him, giving him is space as he sat on the far armrest.

"Okay… so… Clara had been drugged earlier today in the labs by someone, we didn't know who, she's fine now but we couldn't find who did it, her former boyfriend is an abusive prick who I wanted to beat the shit out of for how much of an asshole he is, and officer Nadia just called saying they found the drug in his dorm room so he had to have been the one who drugged her, but he never returned to the dorm so we have no idea where he is or what he'll do." Gaster spewed his words, barely taking a breath between hardly coherent sequences. Dropping his head to his chest and sighing, Gaster groaned under his breath.

It took a few seconds for Grillby to register everything that was just said, leaving him dumbfounded.

"Why?" Was all he could say. Gaster wish the reason was a lie, but he knew better.

"She was a threat. If she was drugged, she wouldn't have done well on the exam, thus making his scores seem better. Guess he underestimated just how potent it had been. I doubt his intentions were for her to pass out; most likely to just inhibit her normal thought process." He grabbed each of his arms in the other. He did not know what to feel, or maybe it was that he felt everything at once. Rage, guilt, pity, fear; everything started building up. He had to stop thinking about this too hard, he told himself. Now was not the time to be having a mental breakdown. Afterall, he didn't have mental breakdowns, right? Grillby now sat next to the distraught scientist, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"So what do we do now? Wait?" The way he said it implied that he was above waiting. He had no taste for waiting for things to be safe for his friends; he never had. Gaster seemed to share the same intentions.

"No, but… the police are already doing all they can."

"And what about Clara? She's clearly not safe. If he went to the lengths of drugging her, now that he's being looked for, there's n-"

"You don't have to remind me, Grillby, I know!" Gaster snapped, losing what was left of his patience before bringing it back with another sigh. A silence fell between them.

"… I think I know where he is." Grillby growled. Gaster's head perked up.

"How could you kno-" Interrupting him, Grillby faced his entire body towards Gaster.

"If his intentions were to inhibit Clara, then chances are there are other things that he has done. This will not stop here. He's going to try to do something to keep her quiet, from making his situation worse. If he is controlling of her, I can almost guarantee he has a copy of her keys: car, house, post box. Not to mention if he has access to her bank account. A car is too open and in public, so he will be in her house."

Gaster blankly gawked at Grillby.

"You weren't the general for nothing…" He sighed. "So, do we just keep her from going there?"

"Yes, and no. We know he's there, but he doesn't know a thing about me. With how smart this guy is, he'll listen to the police scanners, so calling the cops is out." Grillby left it there. Gaster knew what his friend had in mind, but was far from happy about it.

"I can't let you put yourse-"

"Then you will put Clara in dange-"

"No, I can't do that either, but… this is your decision, not mine. Just know I'm not happy about it." He mulled, somehow slumping further. With a composed breath, Grillby stood up and held a hand out for his friend. Accepted, Grillby looks Gaster in the eye, and holds his shoulder again.

"I served my people, Gaster, and I still do. I need you there to call the police if need be. You focus on keeping Clara safe, and I'll take care of this guy. Deal?" Gaster turned his head down, his chin curling in on itself. Doing all he could to keep his chin from quivering, he nodded.

"Deal. Just don't do anything stupid, okay?" With a sniff, Gaster embraced his friend, his meaning clear. "Just come out of this alive, damn it."


	3. Chapter 3: Habits

Chapter 3: Habits

Minutes passed until the men returned to the front of the building, Clara sitting and waiting, just as confused as when she had been left. She could not help but notice a slight darkness under Gaster's eyes, and how Grillby's flames wavered slower. She shouldn't ask, it's probably something personal. It's none of her business. Withdrawing her eyes as if she saw nothing, her hands absentmindedly tilted her Shirley Temple glass around it's bottom. Grillby returned to his post and Gaster to his seat, sliding a hand across Clara's shoulders solemnly as he passed.

"Clara, the, uh… phone call was from officer Schnyder. They found out who had the drug." Gaster breathed, refusing to look at her. She could not help but glance at Grillby, who was also avoiding eye contact. In fact, he seemed to be completely out of it, scraping at something stuck to the wood of the bar with a single, lazy finger. His glossed eyes were motionless, devoid, and it sent a twinge of panic to Clara.

"Oh, okay. W-Who?" She stammered as though she was a bad actor attempting innocence. Gaster finally sent a sideways look, tired and battered.

"Take a guess. It's that damn shithead who called himself your 'partner.'" He droned, barely any emotion tinging his voice. "Don't act like you didn't know, I'm not stupid; I can tell you were lying. Why?" He left it at that, his mouth still open as though there was more to the question.

"I was just… scared. I mean I di-" Gaster spun to face his whole body to her, grabbing the bar with one hand while the other waved about with his words.

"I mean why would you _defend_ him? Of all people, the one who hurt you, treated you like crap, abused you, _drugged you_, and you're _still_ hiding him?"

"_Gaster_!" An inferno wrapped around Gaster's forearm, snapping the skeleton out of his words. "Leave her alone, she has her reasons. We'll fix it later. We've got shit to go." Nose still twisted to the side, Grillby released his friends arm with an apologetic pat. "Get your things, Clara, I'll explain on the way there." He digressed. Gaster slowly stood and wrapped his coat around himself, presumably lost in himself. Clara looked to each of them. Each of them seemed sorrowful and explosive at the same time.

"On the way where? I kinda… just want to go home…" Accepting her coat and scarf from the meek grasp of the scientist, she slowly slipped them on. Grillby sighed, sliding a hidden metal gate that enclosed the backbar and locking it. Putting his own coat on, he grabbed something from the lower corner of the bar, tucked it away, and removed his half apron. It seemed odd that he took off his apron after putting on his coat. He walked around and began walking her out, a soothing arm across her shoulders, and Gaster in tow.

"This guy hasn't been seen since leaving the labs. The police are out looking, but I think we all know where he is." He paused just before the doors, bending down to be eye level with Clara, hands on either shoulder. "We can't call the cops if he's listening in to them, and he's going to be looking for you. I know this is terrifying, I know." Those last words stung with an untold memory. "But both of us refuse to sit by and let you get hurt. We know he's at your place. I need you to come with to show us where your place is and for your key inside. I'll take care of things from there, okay?" A guilty worry scrunched his brow as he ran his thumb over her shoulders. What was she to do? She supposed she was in danger, but did that matter? Now she has these two guys involved in something that would only get worse if they got involved. _It already was worse_, she thought. It's not like they were going to let her back them out of this.

Looking at the worn wood floor, Clara gave an empty nod. This seemed enough for Grillby. Gathering her shoulders in his arm again, they exited the bar.

"We'll take mine. Don't know if I like the idea of you driving, Gri-" The scientist began to walk ahead before being stopped.

"I can drive just fine. It'll help me focus." The elemental drawled, a speck of some indistinguishable accent seeping through. "After all, your car isn't exactly subtle." Walking to the back most part of the parking lot beside the building, Grillby chirped his 1971 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray open. Not only was the car well taken care of, but being that he had used a key fob to remotely unlock it told that it has had some more modern modifications. _Guess these guys like their cars_, Clara thought. Regardless, the interior seemed just as retro as the outside. Grillby opened the front passenger door and gestured Clara inside. She glanced as Gaster slithered into the back seat. Nothing about this was right.

Doing as she was told, she sat in the front seat, buckled herself in, and kept quiet. The fire walked around and sat in the driver's seat, hesitating to turn the car on before deciding not to.

"Okay," he started. "I think I need to clarify. I used to be a high ranking solider, so I do know what I'm doing. I will only use force if need be. Gaster," Grillby turned to his sullen friend in the back, a sudden sternness to his voice. "Your job is just as important as mine, got it? We had a deal; uphold yours. Understood?" Gaster hesitated before composing himself with a breath, giving him a sharp nod. This seemed to quench Grillby's tone, adjusting himself back into his seat before bringing the engine to a roar. "Okay… Where's your place?"

"Waterline Apartments." Clara answered.

"I have no idea where that is, I've never even heard of it." Clara elaborated to him before he drove off. She was not looking forward to this. Business buildings gave way to residentials, then the sidewalks cracked with each block they passed, a few stragglers of the night eyeing the car as it passed.

"Up here on the right. The parking lot is around back." They stopped in front of a five story, rundown apartment building. It appeared as though it could have once been something worth money, but now it's a wonder it passed its building code. The men looked at the atrocity, mouths hung open.

"So, it's behind it?" Gaster asked. Clara huffed and went to open her door. Before she could, Grillby grabbed her right arm, keeping her from budging.

"Walking out right in front of the entire building, most likely the only entrance. You're not too keen on this stealth thing, are you?" Regardless of his last comment, his face and tone showed no signs of jocularity. Passing a glance up and down the street, Grillby pulled away. No one questioned him as he turned left, and parked behind a small vape shop. _How convenient for the kiddies_, Grillby snidely thought. "Follow me, do not look around, and keep quiet. Gaster, follow behind her." With that, he got out.

They walked as they were told to the end of the block away from the apartments, crossed, continued down the block, and turned so they were behind the apartment building. Casually walking up the side of the building, nearly pressed against the brick wall, they turned to the front entrance. With their bodies so close to the wall, it would make looking down through a window to see them difficult, if not impossible depending on the angle.

"Your key." Grillby reached his hand behind him as Clara surrendered it to him. Heading inside the building, the wafting smell of musk that could only be mold hit them. "Which floor?" He hissed quietly.

"6C, it's the third floor, room 6." She clarified, as she often had to for people not from the apartments. Scaling up the concrete steps with barely a handrail, Gaster found himself having to place his hand on Clara's back, urging her to follow. _3C, 4C, 5_-

Grillby shot a hand to stop the two behind him. The door just after the one in front of them was Clara's.

"How many rooms?" He barely spoke above a whisper.

"Two, a main room and a bathroom."

"Closets?"

"A few, but none have doors." The nod from the elemental could barely be seen it had been so shallow. Key in his left hand and his right hand beneath his coat, Grillby spoke without taking his eyes off the door.

"Gaster, Clara, stay here. Gaster, do not let her near that door. Have the police ready to be called if anything at all is heard. By the time I unlock that door, the scanners will be pointless. And Clara," he paused, breathed, and stiffened. "Anything Gaster tells you to do, you do it." Neither of the two dared to speak, as though an out of place exhale could compromise everything. "Remember the deal, Gaster."

With that, Grillby slumped his body down till he was below the peepholes, snaking his legs in front of him. Standing on the left side of the door, next to the door knob, he unlocked it as quietly as he could. Pushing and letting it open on its open till it gave a soft _thunk_ as it flattened onto the wall behind it, his hand raised slightly from under his coat. Curling inwards around the doorframe, he disappeared from view. Gaster felt his throat tighten. Gripping Clara's arm, he stepped in front of her at full height; she could not see anything, and that's exactly what he wanted.

The apartment was shockingly small. Meeting with a sideways facing couch, he scanned the kitchen just behind it. A door on the left must lead to the bathroom. Cluttered in an attempted to hold all its belongings, the apartment was a mess.

Standing at the kitchen sink, water running till steam swarmed about, was a young man with his back still turned. 6'2", 185 pounds, Grillby determine. His head was straight forwards, not paying attention to whatever he had been doing, hands resting on the counter.

"Finally done fucking your boss?" He spoke, turning before he stepped back into the counter in shock. "What th- Get out, who are you? I'm calling the cops if you don't leave!"

"Go ahead, Kyle, call. I'm with the police. Get on the ground, hands beside your head." Grillby's voice was somber and rehearsed. Kyle seemed to only panic, reaching for the chef's knife from the kitchen block. "Put it down. I know your scared, but just breath a second." This seemed to only agitate the youth more.

"Shut the fuck up!" The knife suddenly flew in sporadic angles towards the elemental. It missed dramatically. Kyle reached for another, the bread knife.

"I'm just standing here, I'm not going to hurt you unless I need to for both of our safeties. To be honest, I don't know why I'm here. I was just told to do a security check for someone named Clara about a guy named Kyle at 6C. I know you're scared, but I-"

"_I'm not scared_!" Kyle shouted, throwing the bread knife sideways. This throw had far more intention. Having to rush to the side, Grillby dodged a possibly severe laceration. This was getting out of hand; the boy knew better than a 'security check' lie. Talking calmly did nothing, as did doing nothing. Kyle had forced Grillby's hand. Bring his hand out of his coat, Kyle found himself being aimed at by a police-issued pistol.

"Get on the ground, get on the _fucking_ ground!" Grillby advanced with a trained stride, stopping roughly eight feet from Kyle. "_Now_!" He jabbed his pistol to emphasize that he was not taking any more shit. Boggling, Kyle's knees shook as he tried to lower himself down without the use of his hands. Eventually, he lay face down, hands raised at their wrists in surrender. "Don't move." Closing the gap between then, Grillby took one of his hands, cased his gun, and took the other hand. Grillby read out the Miranda Right's before he realized he had nothing to detain the man with, so he continued to hold his wrists.

"We will wait here like this till other officers arrive… I am truly disappointed, Kyle. You destroyed a promising future. You could have helped the field of science. Young men like you practically throw your lives away for selfish desires you could have done without. Life fucking sucks, but you don't need to make it worse for those who are already suffering." He did not know why he was counseling the boy, but situations like this were never easy on him either. He would feel guilt for taking pity on him later, but it was all he could do for now.

Heaving silent cries, the boy finally resigned himself to what had just happened.

Several sets of rushing feet raced around the corner of the stairwell. Gaster backed himself so Clara was against the wall, arms spread in a protective attempt. He sighed gratefully as he first spotted officer Schnyder leading a group of about five of her armed colleagues. She gave a knowing nod, giving one of her men an order, and continuing past them. The ordered man approached them, holstering his pistol.

"Are you alright?" He inquired. Gaster seemed to just stare. Was he alright? Where was Grillby, why was it quiet? What were those metal sounds? Was he okay; was Clara?

"U-Uh…" was all he could get out. Behind him, he felt Clara nod against his pressed back before he quickly realized he was probably crushing her against the wall. Stepping back, he held her by her arms, muttering an apology and standing to her left.

"You can come with me for now, you don't want to be here right no- No, _wait_!" Before anyone could react, Clara sprinted for her apartment. Gaster did all he could to force his massive form past the officers who got in his way as they tried to grab her. Turning into the apartment, she spotted Grillby leaning his back against the counter, Kyle sitting cross legged on the floor, handcuffed, and officer Schnyder about to pick him up by his arms.

Grillby was stunned to see Clara there. He trotted after as officers ushered her out of the room.

"It's okay, I'll take her." He led her by her shoulders up to the very distraught Gaster, who breathed a sigh of relief to see his friend seemingly unharmed, his hand coming to hold the left side of his chest. Grillby turned her to face him, crouching down. "Everything's okay, no one's hurt. I promise." The look in her eyes spoke of true fear, a motherly concern, and of a youth about to break down into tears. He ran his thumb over her cheek, his own eyes threatened as well. "It's okay now, it's okay." Not knowing what else to do, he thrust her against his chest, holding her as tight as he could without hurting her. Clara's chest shuttered with quiet sobs that gave way to rampant tears. Losing what little composure he had left, Grillby allowed himself to silently cry with her. Gaster flew to his knees and held her between the two of them.

This day had gone on for far too long.

With Clara having been carried outside, the three of them calmed down on the front stoop. The early spring air gave a pleasant chill, finally spurring the girl from sobs to occasional silent huffs. She clung to Grillby's chest as he held her, having been in his lap since he carried her down. Gaster ran a thumb on her knee. The elemental gave a deep breath as Clara grew silent, all her energy spent.

"We should all probably get some rest." Grillby suggested in a whisper. Gaster nodded; he had no desire to talk for the past hour they had been in the cold. Running a thumb over Clara's shoulders, the barman leaned back a bit to look at her. She cracked her swollen eyes open and looked up to him. "You can stay at my place for now, okay? I really don't think you want to be here tonight." Getting no protest, Grillby collected her in his arms and started making his way across the street to his car. He reminded himself to profusely thank Schnyder for not dragging the three of them down to the station. Knowing the elemental, she knew she would get answers within the next day. It was not until he was about to cross the street that he looked back. His old friend still sat on the stoop, slumped over and blankly staring down.

"Hey, G." Gaster slowly looked up. Grillby offered his hand that had Clara's legs draped over the arm. "Lets go home." That was all Gaster needed to take the elemental's hand, slowly drawing himself up, and silently walking beside them. Laying Clara in the back, the two men took the front seats of the car. They all drove in a mutual silence till they reached a small single-story house. Getting out, Grillby collected the nearly sleeping Clara, and opened Gaster's door. "Come on, it's late." He got out and followed.

The small, modern-styled home opened up to a large, clean, high-end kitchen. Faux-marble counters complimented the chrome appliances and the pale tan cupboards. It gave way to the living room with a brown fabric couch, leather recliner, and a flat screen. A bookshelf, few pictures and portraits, and an area rug gave a familial atmosphere. To the left there was a bathroom and a bedroom. To the right there was a short hallway that lead to two other rooms.

Grillby carried Clara in, nodding to the couch. "Sorry, I only have the one guest room. I'll bring you some blankets in a bit. Heading left, he entered the spare bedroom, furnished with a king-sized bed, dresser, closet, nightstand, and a few other atmospheric things. Haphazardly turning the bed down with Clara still in his arm, he laid her down and tucked her in. She was barely awake still, comforted by the warm glow above her.

"Get some sleep, okay?" He leaned his forehead down to hers. "I'm so happy you're safe. You'll be okay from now on. For now, just sleep." Running his hand over her head, he switched on a fake flickering candle nightlight before leaving. Seeing his friend slipping off his shoes, Grillby sat beside him to soothe his state.

"I'm sorry about all of this. I know you hate when I… get protective like that. Old habit, I suppose." He fidgeted with his fingers. "But it's done now, no one got hurt, and… I don't know, I'm exhausted too." Rubbing his face, he flopped against the couch. Gaster nodded.

"No, it's okay. You did everything right, and you knew what you were doing. I just get so scared that I'll hear a gun go off, and it won't be yours. I've nearly lost you too many times now. I'll let this time slip, but you gotta cut this shit out, Grillbz. It's not your place anymore, even though you feel like it is. Whether we got him tonight or not, I wouldn't have brought her there knowing he was free. This could have waited, we could have thought of a better plan." He seemed to be consoling himself than scolding his friend. "What even happened, what were those metal sound?" Grillby grunted a sigh, slowly dragging himself up, retreating into the hallway and opening a closet door.

"A stupid kid trying to scare me off. I'll tell you tomorrow morning, I can't right now." Tossing some blankets and a pillow next to Gaster. "I gotta… sleep. I'll uh, see ya in the mornin'." His accent slipped as he shuffled down the hall to his room, quietly latching the door.

**Author's Notes: **

** Hey there! *Looks at chapter* Welp, that happened! This was a pretty Grillby-heavy chapter. I hope you guys are enjoying this so far, even with all the angsty drama. The next chapter we look more into Clara and Grillby's characters, as well as the relationship between 'Grillbz' and 'G'! **

**Stay safe, Everyone!**


	4. Chapter 4: Paper Bags and Sweatpants

***Warning: This chapter contains suggestions of sexual assault! No violence/naughty bits.***

Chapter 4: Paper Bags and Sweatpants

Soft clanging and savory smells stirred Gaster from his catatonic state. Craning his body about to ease out some kinks from the odd sleeping angle he had attempted, he blearily looked to the fire in the kitchen.

"What time is it?" He murmured, forgetting about the watch that he neglected to remove last night. Turning from the stove, Grillby gave a tiresome smirk. He was wearing a simple tank top and pajama bottoms.

"Late. It's 12:45." He turned back to his hobby, flipping the pan a few times. Gaster reached for his glasses and stood up, slumping onto the breakfast nook stool.

"Geez, guess I'm not going to work today; not like I had planned to, really." The only reply was the chopping of green onion. "Couldn't sleep?" The onions were slid into the pan.

"Is that surprising to you?" The cook had not meant for that to sound so dreary.

"Not really, I know you too well. Try to later on, even if i-"

"It's fine. I'll sleep when I can." Dropping his knife a bit rougher than intended, he opened the fridge and returned to his spot. Grillby always had problems sleeping after having to deal with a conflict that involves bringing out his gun. Old memories of the surface war were never merciful on him. It would usually take a good three days before he could even think about sleeping without interruption. Some considered Grillby ancient, and in truth he was, but some monsters had different life spans than others. Grillby and Gaster were of the 'immortal' kind. Not truly immortal, but without any hinderances to their physical health, there was no designated life expectancy.

While on the surface, seeing Grillby use to remind people of a tale involving a fire elemental that housed in a volcano. Powerful, strong moral compass, and determined, people associated Grillby with the legend. But it was just that, a made-up story that only reminded him that he was seen as a leader. He never wanted to be one, and in truth, who did want to be in charge of telling people who, how, and when to kill?

"Is Clara up yet?" The retired general spurred from his thoughts, realizing that he had been blankly staring at the potatoes on the cutting board. He turned, brows raised, to his friend.

"Wha- oh, no, she's still sleeping. I figured I'd let her get up on her own." Where was he?_ Potato bites, right; did I boil them then cut them? No, they're on the board, it must be cut then boil them._ He was far beyond tired. Gaster looked in thought to the guest room door.

"I think I'm gonna check on her, just make sure she's still asleep and not… whatever else she might be doing." Finally awake, Gaster went and knocked softly on the door, peeking inside. Clara was still tucked in, rolled on her side away from the door, a steady stream of breaths beneath the blankets. Satisfied, the scientist closed the door and went to the offered coffee back at the nook. "Stars, I love your coffee." The boarder-line coffee addict sipped it gingerly, smiling slightly at the buzz the taste gave him. "We really should wake her up soon, though." Grillby gave a nod, draining the diced potatoes and dropping them into a seasoned pan.

"Once I finish making your breakfasts." Grillby elaborated. "Should be only about twenty more minutes." Aimlessly passing a few words here and there, the breakfast was slowly being put together. "Can you go see if she's up for eating?" Gaster thought it was strange to assume she might not want to eat, but he did not question his friend, much less his intuition again.

Opening the guest room door again, he found Clara in the same position he had prior.

"Clara?" No response. He walked in, gently sitting on the edge of the bed. "Clara, come on, Grillbz has breakfast for us." She shuffled in her daze, turning to see who was next to her. Suddenly, her eyes grew massive, flinging herself to the opposite side of the bed. Her knees were drawn up, eyes pinned to the doctor. He stood with his hands up. "Wow, it's okay! It's just me." He slowly sat back down. "We're at Grillby's place. I've been here several times, it's okay." Explaining the situation did not seem to do anything for the girl. She seemed like she was about to flee at any moment, but showed no sign of movement besides her heaving chest.

Gaster sighed. What could he do for an abused child who was in too much shock to recall where she was and who he was? Not much, was all he could think of; so, he sat there and waited. A tinge of pity played on his expression. There was far too much that he did not know, and he was not sure that he wanted to know more than he already did.

"You know… there was a time when we were underground that a child fell. Our prince… our dear prince, saw their pain like no one else did. I was called to make sure they were healthy by the king and queen. The things I saw on that child, the bruises and scars, I will never forget them. I have never cried in front of a patient, but that broke me. We all know why the children fell into the underground. In all honesty, I felt pity that they survived the fall. It must have been torture to fail, then fight for your life all over again. When I saw that child, the love the king and queen had, and the love the prince had, I did everything I could from then on. Even still, they died of their own will. I had failed not just the king, the queen, and the prince, but I had failed that child." The Royal Scientist turned his head away. "I never want another person, human, monster, child, adult, animal, to feel that kind of pain. The pain they felt they had to end. When you told me about what you had been going through, all those memories came flooding back." He turned back to Clara, now engaged in his tale. "Whatever it is that you're thinking, that you're feeling, I'm not leaving you alone with them. I will not fail another person in need of my help. Grillby protected you, and now I will too. I will protect you from the cruelty of this world, I will protect you from your thoughts and feeling. I will protect you even after you have healed, making sure you stay healed."

"As shall I." Grillby walked into the room, kneeling next to the bed. "My job is far from done. You deserve… so much more than you've been given." He stood and was surprised when Clara allowed him to sit next to her, taking her hands in his. "How you've been treated… I will never allow it. If you want, you can stay here, as long as you need. Anything that you need, I will do what I can to give it to you. Therapy, doctors, unconditional love, those are all yours if you ask. Money is not an object to us. I just… I need you to be okay, please. Of all people… I know how easy it is to fall back into your thoughts. How you scream at yourself to be quiet, how you can't crawl out fast enough from the memories and the emotions… Clara, please, let me help you!" Lifting his head, steaming tears poured out of Grillby's eyes, his face contorted. Seeing the pain she had brought to the two men who were fighting so hard for her, Clara broke into tears as well. She threw herself into his chest and arms, howling sobs. Gaster made his way over, embracing the two.

This felt… right. Complete, even though it was horribly shattered.

In time, everyone had quieted down, Grillby and Clara now lying on the bed, Gaster gazing out the window next to them. The elemental soothed his new companion's hair, finally feeling as though he could sleep peacefully. Gaster looked to the two and smiled. As if on cue, Clara's stomach protested the lack of attention.

"I think we should all eat something, yes?" Gaster suggested. Grillby nodded, eyes still closed. It took him a moment before he remembered that he was the chef of the three. Collecting Clara, he stood and made his way back into the kitchen, placing her onto the bar stool. He turned around the bar-like counter, smiling. This looked just as it had the first time he met her, only better. Striking a fire into his palm, he heated up the forgotten breakfast. Placing each plate in front of them and himself, he brewed an Earl Grey tea and gave it to Clara. Each of them silently ate in a content silence, occasionally passing soft glances at one another.

Just as they were finishing up, Gaster could not help but notice that Clara had not eaten much.

"Not that hungry?" She shrugged and sipped her tea. Neither of the men were surprised; they were just happy to see that she had eaten anything at all. "That's okay." He ran a hand over her shoulder, noticing how hollow it felt, before going to rinse his and Grillby's dishes, something the fire elemental greatly appreciated. Someone's cell phone on the counter began to vibrate. Glancing at it, Gaster picked it up.

"Hey… Yeah, sorry. I'm at Grillby's place… No…" He grumbled. "No! Geez, you're so stubborn… Sans… Yeah, something came up. I'll be home later… I'd have to buy sauce, so not till I get home. Paps will have to be patient… Love you as well, Sans, stay safe." With that, he hung up. Grillby tried to hold back a smirk. "What's your deal?"

"Is he still betting that we're going to be a thing?" He could not help but silently laugh. The way Gaster shoved his phone into his pocket told it all. Since Sans was a little-bones, he's been insisting that they get together. This only spurred Grillby to endlessly tease his friend. "Sometimes I wonder Sans's judgement…" Gaster ignored that last remark…

"He's just doing it to annoy me, you know how he is. Same way he makes those endless fire puns." He retorted. Grillby rolled his eyes. Clara sat ignoring the conversation, yet still listening. Her stomach was not setting right with her and could not tell if the tea was helping or not. But she did not want to be a burden or ruin a moment between friends, so she kept quiet.

"You okay there, turtle?" Clara looked up to see Grillby sympathetically looking to her. He presumed she was not feeling well being how little she ate. Perhaps it was the sudden change in her life, or maybe she just was not one for breakfast?

"I-I'm okay. Sorry I didn't finish." She drew her hands into her lap. She was being so rude, she had not even said 'thank you' for anything yet. Grillby took her plate and started placing the leftovers into a container.

"It's fine, no need to apologize." He said, handing the plate to Gaster to rinse off. It was now nearly two in the afternoon. "So Gaster, Clara and I couldn't help but notice your ringtone last night." A Cheshire grin formed on his face. Gaster turned away.

"And? It's Auld Lang Syne, what's so notable about that?" Something was hidden in his tone.

"Uh-huh, and what was that line after Auld Lang Syne? 'If I had the mo-'"

"Shut up, Grillbert!" Gaster swung around and attempted to clamp his hand over the elemental's mouth, but Grillby dodged away, laughing to himself.

"What, I thought it was nothing notable, so what does it matter if I bring it up?" He danced to the other side of the breakfast nook. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with electric swing, now is there?" Grillby knew that it was a touch embarrassing for the doctor to be caught listening to such youthful music, not to mention music that contradicted his personality. A hint of blush faded onto Gaster's face. "I personally like the genre myself, although a bit more classical than yours." Grillby added.

"So what's your point?"

"I like the song." Clara interjected with a hum. "Just never thought you'd be into something like that." Gaster's blush left, leaving a confused look.

"What did you think I'd be into?" He questioned. Clara shrugged, looking down into her lap.

"I don't know, something like Frank Sinatra or Fred Astaire tap dance." Grillby nearly lost all composure, sputtering to keep from exploding with laughter. Gaster raised a brow.

"Tap dance… I may be old to human standards, but I do keep up on musical tastes." Clara's shoulders shrank.

"Sorry." She murmured into herself, sinking further down. Grillby and Gaster suddenly became worrisome.

"No, no need to be sorry, turtle, it's fine. We were joking around!" Grillby ran a hand down her back. Gaster reached for her arms, sweeping her hands up over the nook to him.

"I did not mean to sound accusatory, I should be the one apologizing." She shook her head.

"No, I should have kept quiet, you guys were talking. I'm sorry." They were beside themselves. _Did this prick train her to be like this? To stay quiet and butt out? Like a fucking dog?_ Grillby thought. He fought hard to maintain his composure.

"Whatever that piece of shit told you, forget it!" He retorted. As her hands were let go, Clara held her arms. "You're allowed to talk, to have opinions, to- fucking- Augh!" Grillby stormed back and forth across the floor a few passes before stopping. He did all he could to walk calmly back to her side, turning the seat towards him. "Whatever he's told you…" He dropped his voice low with a sigh. "What made you say that? Why did you think you shouldn't talk?" Clara's eyes were shut tight, head down, shoulders drawn. Gaster had seen enough patients to know that look.

"Grillbz, can I speak with her by ourselves, please?" The chef knew that tone; it meant that he was in work mode. With a nod, he left to his room to get ready for what was left of the day. Gaster went to Clara, gently pushed her off the stool, and into the guest room. They sat on the bed. "What're you thinking?" She did not know how to respond, nor what that meant, so she kept quiet. "I want to know what you're thinking so I can help. What are you telling yourself?"

"Keep quiet. That I'll get hit if I don't." This made Gaster's soul ache for a moment, hearing how autonomous she spoke. Everything had seemed so right for a few moments that he had forgotten about the abuse.

"We will never hit you, okay?" He went to caress her head, but she flinched at the slightest touch. It was too early to be doing this. He settled his hands in his own lap. Again, he was at a loss for words. "Do you believe us when we tell you these things?" She immediately answered.

"Y-Yes! Really!" Another blatant lie... He did not blame her; how could she believe anyone anymore? But at least she did enough to eat and listen. Or perhaps that is all she was ever allowed to do. There was far too little information, and the doctor was not about to start pushing her for it. He could only give her time and the tools she needed to better herself. Another attempt to comfort her, he ran a hand down the back of her head regardless of the way she cringed. She had to learn that not all physical contact was bad.

"I want to ask you one more thing." She stayed quiet. "Did he ever touch you when you did not want to be?" Even just saying that, Gaster's hands curled into fists. _Please say 'no,' I don't- Oh, just say anything_. He waited._ Even if he did or not, it'd be hard to say, right?_ He did all he could to reason with the silence.

"It's fine." 'It's _fine_?' How he so wanted to punch a hole right through the wall (which he has done before, much to Grillby's dismay), to go to the police station and beat the crap out of that kid, to press every charge against him. How was any of this _fine_? Gaster cleared his throat quietly, leaning against his knees and rubbing his head.

"Uh… you do know that's not okay, right? This is a serious crime. He's drugged you, abused you, he-" Gaster couldn't say it, knowing damn well that saying something so vile would empty his stomach. He had to clear his throat again of the nausea. "This is just… horrible… What he's done and said to you…" All he could do was thank the stars that the drug was already taking affect enough by the time they got to the labs for him to have noticed. What if he hadn't noticed? A numbness ran over him. "Get some more rest, if you want to that is," was all he could say before slinking out, leaving the door open.

Grillby was sitting on the couch, typing something on his phone. Now dressed in black slacks and a fashionable sweater, he seemed a little more awake than before. Seeing his friend's state, he ushered Gaster over.

"What happened?" Gaster sat next to him, shaking his head.

"I'm not sure if I even know. But what I do know, I wish I didn't." His eyes seemed heavy. "Turns out that he… had… he did more than abuse her verbally and physically, he…" _Pull it together, you're a doctor for heaven's sake_!

"I know." This shocked Gaster.

"You _knew_?" Gaster exclaimed. Grillby nodded.

"I could tell by the way she acted. She sits down in a certain way, always leaning forward; her legs are never apart, even when standing; she's very wary of where everyone's hands are. I run a bar, Gaster, I've seen the signs a number of times. What I can't tell is whether or not she's in pain, and as of right now, I'm not going to ask; nor should you." He emphasized the last part.

"Why? If she's in pain, we can get her help, I can give her some pain killers." The doctor side of him as in full swing.

"Do you really think she wants to be examined by a doctor right now? And with that in mind, it would be best if she can monitor the pain for what it is, not dull it to a point where she doesn't know if she is getting worse or not." There were times where Grillby outwitted his scientific friend. He knew he was right, and he hated it that the answer was to do nothing.

"We can't even ask?" He tried to get a bit of leeway.

"Do you think she'll tell us the truth?"

"What if she does? If she says yes, then there's our answer. If she says no, then we'll… hm, I guess we can't tell if she's lying about that, now could we?" Gaster pondered. The elemental sighed, leaning against the couch.

"I guess it couldn't hurt… So, who asks?" They stared at one another. If Gaster asks, it could be intimidating what with his status and occupation, but he was the most qualified. If Grillby asks, it would be stepping over a boundary and make it obvious that they had discussed this, but she seemed to be more relaxed around him. Neither of them wanted to be the one to ask. "What about someone else?" Grillby offered. Gaster shot him a questionable look.

"Like who?"

"Like another woman. She's probably scared of us enough as it is." Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Clara ever so slightly peek around the doorway that had been left open, before retreating back. If she did not believe them when they were talking to her, perhaps she would when they were talking about her. "I just feel bad, with him controlling her, when was the last time she's been able to hang out with any girls?" Gaster seemed to agree.

"And it'd be a lot easier to talk about things, I'd imagine. We could ask if she has any friends, even old ones from years ago she could talk to." The doctor was starting to find this idea rather promising.

"Or new friends that she may find. Now that she's not tethered to him, she can do what she wants, go where she wants. By the way, she does know she doesn't have to be in there, right?" Clara's head shot back inside the guest room again. Gaster looked to the empty doorway.

"Crap, I don't think we ever told her that she can go where she wants. We've kind of just been ushering her around, huh? I'll go tell her." As he went to stand, his friend sat him back down by his arm.

"Leave her be for now, we'll tell her later." He winked at him and flicked on the television. Gaster was not sure what this meant, but assumed that he knew what he was doing.

About a half an hour passed and Grillby could not help but notice Clara slipping out of the room and into the bathroom next to her room. After she closed the door, Grillby silently pointed to the door. Gaster was a little surprised to see that the door was closed, meaning that she had left on her own accord.

"She's a very good listener." Grillby whispered with a knowing smirk. After a while, the door opened again, and the men kept their eyes ignorantly to the television; that is, until Clara had started to gingerly approach them. Looking up in slight surprise, Grillby lowered the volume. "What's up, turtle?" She fidgeted and glanced at Gaster and him.

"Um… how far is the closest store?" She muttered. It was an odd question, to say the least; almost suspicious. Grillby took out his wallet and keys from his pocket.

"I can drive you there if you want. What do you need?" She scrawled her fingers about with more tension now.

"No, it's okay. I… just don't know where there is one."

"It's a ways away, Clara, it'll take you an hour to get there if you walk. It's 3:30, it'll start to be sundown by the time you start coming back." He reasoned.

"It's okay, I guess… it's not that big a deal." She turned back to the guest room a little slow, knowing that Grillby was following her. She looked sideways to him after he closed the door a little.

"I don't mind driving you, really."

"I don't want to ruin your car…" She looked away, toes curling into the rug. For a moment, he was confused, but then understood. He nodded.

"One second." He left, grabbed something from the bathroom, and returned. "I always keep these around for when my niece, Fuku, visits." He held out a paper bag. Taking it gently, she unfolded it to find a pack of period pads. _Was it that obvious_, she thought? "I took care of her for a while in her early teens, I get that it's embarrassing. Seriously, just ask, okay?" He pat her back and left, closing the door fully. She looked from the door to the bag. _Fuku_.

Going next door into the bathroom again, he grabbed some pain killers. Gaster shot up from the couch the moment he heard the medicine cabinet open.

"Wow, wow, wow, I thought that we agreed that this was a bad idea!" He whispered harshly.

"Just trust me on this one-"

"No!" He swiped the bottle from him. "What's going on?" Sighing, Grillby looked from the door to his friend, visibly uncomfortable.

"Look, she's on her period, okay?"

"Wait, did she tell you that, or did she just say that she's bleeding?" Gaster grew serious.

"What's the differ- Oh shit…" He looked back to the door, desperately wanting to ask her now.

"Yeah, 'oh shit' is right. And you were going to ignorantly give her this." He shoved the bottle into his pocket. "Well… you started it, go ask her." He nudged Grillby towards the door.

"Wait, hold on, I'm not the doctor here!"

"I'm not the one with a niece." Gaster held his hands up in innocence and returned to the couch.

Ah crap… Grillby scolded himself. Guess he was the 'girl' who was asking… Hesitating, he knocked on the door.

"H-Hey, Clara, can I- uh, ask you something?" He shot a filthy glare to his friend. _You're getting the next one_, he mouthed to him. Gaster just shrugged. From the other side of the door, there was the sudden sound of shuffling and crumpling.

"Y-yeah?" She responded. Assuming this was permission to come in, he slowly opened the door. She was standing where he had left her, the bag gone, and her hands shoved in her pockets.

"Hey." He closed the door. "Uh, I know this is a really weird question, but- uh…" _You're a grown monster, just say it, you prepubescent-acting dork_! He bit his lip at how hurtfully true his thoughts were. "You did need those for your period, right? Like, you're not, you know, when you shouldn't be?" _Great job, Casanova_. He looked down at the floor and put his hands into his pockets as well, mentally kicking himself.

"Um…" was all she could say. He noticed one of her knees shaking. She was in pain, that much as true, but from what? "It'll stop in a bit, it always does." _Wait, 'it alw-' what does that mean? Does that also mean that it's not her-_? Grillby had to actually shake his head out a moment.

"So… this isn't normal? Did… he?"

"Yeah, but I mean… it always stops, so it's fine." She shifted back a bit.

"How long does it go on for?" He asked almost to himself, ignoring how rude and intrusive this was, but she just moved back more._ She was at the labs all day yesterday, she's here today… That's a while for it to be something small…_ "I know you're scared… but this isn't good. Okay look," He sat down on the bed to seem less intimidating, having suddenly felt freakishly tall next to her shrinking body. He pretending to ignore the muffled crunching sound on the opposite side. "How about we do this: I'll get a bunch of business cards and stuff from all the local doctors, I'll give you my spare laptop, and you can research who you would be most comfortable to go to, okay?" This seemed to get her attention.

"I- but I don't want to bother you, you've already done far too much for me!" She did not want to see anyone.

"It's barely anything in comparison to what I want to give you, though, okay? I want to do this for you!" He explained. Clara contemplated for a bit. He wanted her to go?

"Only if it's not a bother at all. I really don't want to take advantage of how kind you are."

"You don't need to worry about that, okay?" Getting up, he smoothed over her arms. "Like I said, I want to do this. I actually was going to give you some pain killers, but a _certain doctor_ said not to!" He shouted. A distant voice responded.

"Hey, you agreed that it wasn't a good idea!" The voice grew closer.

"Well, maybe I changed my mind, Mr. PhD!" He talked to the door.

"You're damn right, I've got a PhD! And you have… a liquor license?" The doctor retorted. Grillby growled in response.

"Guess mulled wine is off the menu…" Silence.

"… Y-You know I was just messing with you, right bud?" Grillby chuckled at this before opening the door.

"_If_ you behave yourself, I might consider leaving it." Sheepishly, Gaster snaked back to the couch. "You know, your son still owes a massive tab, right?" Now he was just teasing the doctor, knowing he would not talk back if his rare mulled wine was on the line. Grillby turned to Clara. "Sans, who he was talking to before, is his eldest son. Strange kid, but he keeps his nose clean."

"Har, har, har, another skeleton joke." Gaster called out.

"It wasn't actually, you just interpreted it as such. Apologies if it bothers you, you 'nose' how I get somet-"

"Grillbert, I swear by Nickola Tesla, you will lose your friendship-doctor privileges!" Gaster yelled. Grillby leaned against the doorframe.

"See, this is why Sans swears we're going out, because of weirdly worded phrasing like that." Gaster grew flushed.

"I meant that… As in that if…" He grumbled. "There's no good way to say this where it _can't_ be skewed by him!" Throwing his hands up, he went to the coffee maker. "Damn him and his wit…"

Rolling his eyes, Grillby went into his own room. Left to herself, Clara crept out of the room. Gaster had his back turned, aimlessly watching the coffee trickle into his mug. She took this time to slip into the bathroom, grab a navy blue, spare towel, and scurry over to the couch. She sat on the towel, scrunching into the corner as small as she could. Grillby noticed her as he walked back in, a bulky laptop and charger in hand.

"You can take up the whole couch if you wanted, I don't mind." He sat into the recliner, eyeing the blue fabric as he passed. "Oh… shit. Your clothes are all at the apartment, aren't they?" He scrunched his face with his hands. "Hold on a second." Dropping the laptop onto the chair, he went back into his room. After a while, he returned with a pair of black sweatpants and two clothes pins. "You can wear these for now, and use the pins to roll up what's too long." It was the only thing that he had that had a drawstring besides his pajama pants, so options were limited. Clara stared at him a moment. He gave her a sympathetic look. "Would you prefer to keep wearing what you are?" He whispered, gesturing with his head to Gaster, knowing that she would have been embarrassed if Gaster had seen her stained and soaked pants.

"What about clothes?" Gaster walked up, talking between sips of coffee. Grillby looked to Clara with a wink, and ushered Gaster towards his room.

"I wanted your opinion on my new suit, being how nitpicky you are with things of the like." As the men left, Clara took the opportunity to race into the guest room without her rear being seen, towel and sweatpants in hand. Changing quickly, she returned to her spot on the couch as though she never left. As if on cue, the men returned.

"Honestly, the tie doesn't suit you, stick with the bow." Gaster said, sitting opposite of Clara. Grillby winked at Clara as if to say 'mission accomplished.' She gave a small smile in return.

"Also, Clara, I was wondering if it'd be okay if I went with you to get some of your clothes from your apartment." Grillby noted. Gaster silently realized he'd been duped, but figured there was a reason, probably involving the massively oversized pants she was now wearing. Honestly, they seemed comical. Clara mussed her hands in the fabric a bit.

"Um… but isn't it a way from here?" She avoided the reasoning.

"Not really, only about 15 minutes. Officer Schnyder went through the place, there is no one else there."

"Can you… bring your… your gun?" Both men had to keep from staring bug-eyed at her.

"My gun… No, there is no need. I'll be with you, he's been arreste-"

"Please?" This reeked to the men. There was something she was not telling them. Grillby scowled to himself, chewing his lip. _When did she even see the…_?

"Grillbz, stop chewing on your lip." Gaster scolded. With a huff, Grillby thinned his lips into a line, steeling himself from his nervous tick, mulling his thought and options.

"I'll bring it, okay? But you need to understand that we're not going to need it." Clara nodded at this. "Okay, go grab your keys and coat." She got up slowly before grabbing her things from the guest room. Gaster turned to him while they were alone, whispering.

"What's that all about?" Grillby shook his head.

"I don't know. I mean what's the harm, it's just to help her feel safe. At least she's not scared about the fact that I have a gun. That means that she trusts me with one." Gaster could not argue with that.

"Fine, but… damn, I hate that thing."

"I know, me too." Clara came back. Her coat and the oversized sweatpants swallowed her. Grillby stood and went to grab his things. "We won't be long, okay, G? No more than forty-five minutes." Coat on, he went into his room, unlocked his safe, holstered his pistol, and left with Clara.

"I'll hold you to that…" Gaster said to the closed door and empty room.

**Author's Notes: **

** Enjoyed the feels? This one was a lot of setting the stage for what's to come. The next chapter is going to be super short, but it will be worth it! So, which path do you think this will go? A Gaster or Grillby love story? Random character love story? Not a love story at all? A tragedy? OooOOOooo, no one knows what's gonna happen~! Points to anyone who can name Gaster's ringtone ;)! Love you guys, Stay safe!**

**Edit: So as I wrote this chapter, I realized that I accidentally chose the name Clara... with it being so close to Chara! This was an absolute mistake, I swear! This was NOT planned! There is no link the Chara in any of this!**


	5. Chapter 5: Captoes and Mary Janes

Chapter 5: Captoes and Mary Janes

The two drove with only the radio to fill the quiet. Pulling up to the apartments, a wave of chills ran over him. It was all too soon for him to return to this place after the emotional episode of yesterday. The sun was just starting to stain the quieting neighborhood orange and blue. Clara insisted that Grillby led the way. With her hand in his, he went up the stairs and to the door.

"Here." She handed him her key and stepped a few feet back. The retired general's soul nearly shattered seeing this. Was she really that afraid? Was she afraid of him or whatever her own imagination was thinking? Not wanting to push her more than she felt comfortable, he unlocked the door, took a moment to look inside, and reached for her hand. "I-I think I'll stay here. Just grab anything you find."

"I… Look, it's safe, there's no one in there." She didn't move. Grillby closed the door and held her by her arms. "I get that you're scared, I really do. I've been in similar positions before… But you've gotta remind yourself of the logical side to things. The guy's arrested, Officer Schnyder did a full sweep and investigation of the apartment… and you're with me. And I refuse to let anything happen to you, okay?" This seemed to convince Clara, nodding sullenly. With that, he took her hand, unlocked the door, led the way inside, and closed the door. "See, no one's here but us." She stared at the bathroom door. He had to make her see it was safe, so he went to the door, opened it, looked around, and returned. "Completely empty." She took a few steps further in, looking around as though her couch or lamp might jump at her. It would take time for her to accept this. "Lets get your things. The sooner we're out, the sooner we can head back." With this idea spurring her, she grabbed about two shirts, a pair of pants, a few undergarments, and a few of her toiletries before she stood in front of her guardian, ready to hightail it out of here. He looked worryingly at the small pile in her arms.

"Is that all?" She nodded. "You don't have any more clothes?"

"They're… all at his place. I wasn't allowed a lot." Grillby's stomach chilled hearing this, but was only slightly surprised.

"Okay, so you don't need anything else? Clothes and all we can replace, but if you need documents or something and we can't get here, that can be an issue." He reasoned.

"He has them too." Now his stomach churned sickeningly. He had her documents?

"Bank info, car registrations, apartment papers?" She nodded. The chill reached into his face. He would have to reach out to Officer Schnyder as soon as he could. "Okay, lets get going then." He felt an odd instinct to ghost his hand over his pistol, but no threat showed all the way back to his home. None of this was sitting well with him. They went back inside; Clara had gone to settle her things in, as Grillby pulled Gaster aside roughly. The chill dug so deep into him that he was expecting Gaster's bones to be warmer than his hand.

"Do I even want to know?" Gaster asked tiredly, knowing it was not good.

"He has all her information, everything," was all Grillby could say.

"I'll call Nadia. Anything else? Where's your… you know?" Knowing what this referred to, he moved his coat to show the still holstered gun. "Okay, good…" He didn't know why he was so worried about his friend, who was far more than capable to own a firearm. Without another word, Grillby went to secure the weapon away while Gaster called the head officer.

After they all settled back into the living room, Grillby set up and updated the old laptop. In doing so, he gave it to Clara to peruse, suggesting that she look at a few clothing websites.

"You can get anything you want: clothes, shoes, accessories." She dejectedly looked at the site he brought up. It wasn't expensive, but it was far more expensive than she was used to. Usually, with what little she had been allowed in cash, she would go to the Salvation Army. $35 for a shirt seemed excessive to her. Seeing her knitted brow, Grillby questioned. "What's up?"

"U-Uh, I just… isn't this a lot?" She asked, pointing to a pair of $47 pants.

"A lot? That's cheap! A decent pair of pants can actually be close to $65." She knew this, she wasn't ignorant to the reality of things, but that was not her point. "Look, I know what you mean. Don't worry about that stuff, okay? I own my own business, and I live by myself in a small house. A few moderately priced pants aren't gonna break the bank." She looked to him.

"Wait, no that's not what I- you don't have to pay for my things!" She took her hands off the laptop, as if it would bite her. Gaster scooted over.

"Clara, dear, do you have any money?" She leaned away, fingers twitching a moment.

"N-No, he does, I'm sorry!" Her words came out jumbled. Gaster nodded.

"Then how do you plan to pay for new clothes? What I'm getting at is that we'll pay. Don't worry about these things. Grillbz has his bar, I'm… well…" He had to suppress an egotistical smile. "Just pick out what you like, don't even look at the prices, and put them into the cart, okay?" Seeing that he was not after her wallet, she relaxed. _Let them pay? Was that okay? I'm already here, they're caring about and for me. Isn't that too much already? Mom said to give back, but I have nothing…_ She pondered over her thoughts. There must be something she can do. In her speculation, she started scrolling through the sites Grillby had laid out for her.

An hour or so had passed and Grillby was behind the counter, starting to prepare dinner. Gaster and Clara sat watching television or mulling over clothes.

"Hey, Clara, I know this is a hell of a times to bring this up, but do you have any interest in working for me? I completely understand if you do not wish to." Gaster mused. She had forgotten, how could she forget that _the_ W.D. Gaster had asked her to work for him; how could she forget that this was the same Gaster who was with her this _whole time_? "Clara, you okay there?"_ Yes, yes you are, answer, say 'yes!' He wants you to work for him? He really does, or is he messing with me? But either way, say 'yes!'_ "Clara?" Waving in front of her, she came back. "Short circuited there a moment?" He chuckled.

"Uh…" _Say something, moron_! Her mouth hung open. "I… bu- you… you're…" She stammered.

"Oh goodness… Grillbz, help…" He laid over the arm rest, looking upside-down to his friend.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, not turning from his chores. Seeing the dead-end, Gaster groaned pathetically to him. "Ugh, you're ridiculous sometimes." Abandoning his project, Grillby sat on the armrest next to Clara. "Okay, I know he's an intimidating, doof-"

"Thanks." Gaster deadpanned.

"But look at how he's been since you've known him. You love science, right?" Clara nodded. "And clearly you're good at it enough that Gaster wants you to work for him. S-" She stiffened hearing this. "Okay, let me rephrase this. Yes, he's the 'Great Gast-by-'"

"I take offense to that!"

"-But he's not as stuck-up, well…" Grillby stopped himself. "He's not as… He… Okay, he's just a big dorky nerd with a big name."

"Tell me why I asked for your help again." Gaster asked through grit teeth, rubbing his eyes.

"Why did you want to take the test?" He directly asked her. Clara thought a moment.

"To work at the labs…" She admitted.

"So…" Grillby led on. "You got it, you've got what you wanted!" He nudged her arm with his. "Come on, you can gloat." He urged, sharing a smug smile. She tried to hide it by turning her head down and away from Gaster.

"That's rude…"

"Who _cares_? You've got you're dream job, fucking celebrate!" Grillby jumped up suddenly. He felt the sudden joy and pride he had when he opened his first bar in the Underground. Reaching into the draw of the end table, he pushed a button on one of the several remotes. Hip-hop electric swing started playing from hidden speakers. Taking to laptop off of her lap, he hauled Clara off of the couch by her hands. She looked to Gaster helplessly. He only gave a smile, knowing better than to interrupt his friend when he was in one of these moods.

Starting with simple motions, he danced Clara around with his arms. He was spinning and twisting her about this way and that till she started smirking, then smiling, till she was showing her teeth in delight. Laughing as he lifted and spun her around. She looked down to him, seeing just how intricate his footwork was. V-steps and pivots flurried about. Seeing her gaze, he put her down and held her at his side. In a few slow steps, he showed her a few moves before they hurried their pace, and were laughing and dancing in sync. Adding flourishes and spins as they felt like it, they looked like school children playing in the rain. The song faded till the next one started. Surrendering and panting, Grillby resigned to his recliner with a heavy flop. Clara sat back in her spot, also winded.

Gaster had watched the whole dance. He lived for occasions like there, where people suffering from physical or mental issues have moments filled with just the here and now, smiling and laughing like youthful children. They let small laughs escape between their heavy breaths and grins. He was also grateful that he was not dragged into it, to be honest. Dancing was by far an embarrassment for him. Secretly, he too was clumsy.

Clara had… fun, a lot of it! Just for this moment, she let herself be selfish, closing her eyes and smiling. She wondered for a second if this is what it meant to be cared for, to be loved, and seen as a person as opposed to a possession. She felt alive, human, relishing the ache her lungs felt as she breathed. Even the dull pain in her stomach from laughing made her giggle occasionally. She was alive. She was free. She was her again, she was the happy child that she thought was snuffed out. She felt her hand be enveloped by a warm one. Glancing over, she shared her love for being alive with Grillby, as he shared his back. The rarity that either of them felt this was the greatest achievement for them. Such horrors and heartache no longer existed, and it even seemed silly to them that they let such things get to them. What were they thinking, letting that get in the way of feeling this, feeling such unbridled joy?

"Haven't… dance like that… in years!" Grillby panted, squeezing her hand gently. "Ugh, I missed this…"

"I have never… danced like that before… It was fucking _awesome_!" Clara swore with a smile. "Grillby?" He looked over. "Thanks."

"I should be thanking you! I haven't been that happy- you know what, who cares how long it's been, I'm fucking happy." With one final heave of air, he let out a long and heavy sigh, closing his eyes. Gaster could not help but notice the tears pricking at Grillby's eyes, then the crystals that ran down Clara's face.

"Me too." She whispered.

In time, the two got up and Grillby continued to prepare dinner. Clara followed with Gaster in hand, each of them doing a different task. They all sat down and ate the meal they all made with soft laughs from stories and jokes. Finished, they retired to the couch again, all shoulder to shoulder with one another. The night grew deeper as Clara's eyes dipped lower till they fell into sleep, head resting on Gaster's shoulder, Grillby's arm wrapped around her. At this point, things felt right.

Gaster shifted Clara over to Grillby, giving a quite good-bye as he left for the night to his sons. Alone, Grillby looked down at the young woman, holding her tightly. This is what she needed, what she deserved, and nothing was going to make him take that away from her. Adjusting so he reclined on the couch, her head resting on him, he let his lack of sleep overtake him. He knew he could sleep peacefully tonight.

Gaster entered his home that he shared with his sons. Dropping his things at the door, he raced into the kitchen to see his kin talking and cooking. Grabbing each of them, he embraced them, as they embraced him. His sons were the world to him, and seeing what he had seen tonight only brought that brighter in the forefront of his mind.

**Author's Notes: **

** This, almost bonus, chapter brings so much joy to my heart! Sometimes you gotta just go crazy! This is a little insight to how Grillby spends his spare time. Secret: He loves it so much he tried to teach Gaster... didn't work. But if it DID, I imagine this is what it would look like (Gaster in the black suit, and Grillby in the grey suit)! **

** watch?v=FEWi3l1ghD4**

**Next chapter starts to get plot heavy, so keep an eye out! Love you guy! Stay Safe!**


	6. Chapter 6: Backbone

***Warning: Mentions of sexual assault and abuse in this chapter, but no naughty bits!***

Chapter 6: Backbone

"Hey, Grillby?" Turning to the side, the elemental addressed Clara.

"Hm?" They were enjoying a quiet morning in the living room, Clara having picked up where she left off on the laptop, and Grillby perusing the internet on his phone while half watching the news.

"How far away is… Khro-Khromera Street?" She stammered.

"Probably only fifteen minutes. Why?" Clara turned the laptop around to show a website that listed and ranked doctors based on their professional records and patient reviews. Leaning in, he read the profile that was brought up.

"Oh, I know where that is. Do you wanna go there?" Grillby tried to keep his voice level and calm, regardless of the daunting fact that he would end up being eyed endlessly. _No guy walks into an OBGYN office unless they wer_\- He cut his thoughts short, savoring himself his own embarrassment.

"I guess? You said I had to go to someone, right?" She turned the laptop back, giving him a sideways puppy eye.

"Yeah, probably… And, also a general doctor. When was the last time you had a physical?" _Damn you, Gaster, this was supposed to be your conversation… _

"Two years…" She looked away.

"Yeah, you're gonna go to one. Do you already have one?" He recalled how that was common for humans. She shrugged.

"I don't think so. The office got turned into something else. _He _has my records and insurance stuff anyway… Guess I can't even go to the Khromera one anyway." She solemnly looked at the profile page. Well, she was not wrong about the insurance. It would be a pretty hefty bill… Maybe Gaster could pull some strings. He pocketed his phone and stood up.

"We don't know that just yet, I'll make some calls an-"

"N-No, I can- it's no- I-I'll call!" She grabbed his sleeve to stop him, pulling away as soon as she did. Grillby's face dropped as he soothed her arms.

"I won't. But you do know how expensive this would be without outside help, right? In your situation, you could get… oh what is it called? Like a waiver? Or… you get what I mean. The government would pay for the visit, but unless they know of your situation, there's nothing that they can do." He was never good at those political or fancy terms that the humans loved far too much. He was surprised that he even understood Gaster. Clara looked down. Grillby started making plans in his head of who he would have to call, only to realize that he never contacted Schnyder the other day. _Ah… shit…_ His head instantly fell to his chest. "I gotta call Schnyder… This is going to be… exhilarating…" He bluffed, standing and fishing out his phone again. "Guess the bar's going to be closed again today…"

He hated being closed. Being closed meant not only missed regulars, but missing possible new regulars. He was not a penny pincher, but he did have an obligation to his patrons. Sitting back into his recliner, he brought the phone to his head. "Good morning, Officer Schnyder, this is Grillb-… Yes, I know, I apologize… I can come in today, yes… With-I don't think that's a good idea… I know, but can't there be an exception, just look at all that they've be-… No, Officer Schnyder, I am not questioning your judgement… Fine, but you will speak with me first, or no talk at all… I am not!... Ugh, I hate your teasing… Alright, alright, I'll see you in a little while." He swiped the phone off, groaning into his hands as his glasses were pushed onto his forehead. Clara tried to hear what it was that he was mumbling, but she swore it was not English.

"Is she mad?" Clara asked. He sighed and lowered his hands, glasses still up.

"No, she gets it. But she wants to talk to you about… everything, I guess…" Through his horrible vision, he could tell she was terrified of the idea. "I know, my thoughts exactly… But, she's the head of the police for a reason." He stood, fixing his glasses. "I'll be there, so there's nothing to worry about, okay?"

"Can you bring you-"

"No gun. Come on, Clara, you're going to be surrounded by police officers and all. It's the single safest place to be!" He reasoned, hoisting her up by her hands. She knew he was right, but it was other people who she did not know having guns that scared her. They each left to get ready for the day, Clara dressing in the black skinny jeans and college hoodie she had. It was the most 'respectful' thing she had that was not in severe need of being washed. Grillby wore his usual black slacks and a grey sweater. He looked at Clara in thought. "One second!" He raced back into his room, coming back with a black, cable-knit sweater. "Fuku left this here last time. I think it would be a little big, but give it a try!" Returning to her room, she found that the sweater was just a little big, but far more appropriate than a college hoodie. It was meant to hug her body, but it barely did with how thin her form was. It was the one thing she liked about herself, but it could still be 'improved.' Grillby couldn't help but beam when he saw her in it. "Perfect! Ready to go?" With a nod, they left for the police station.

A knock hit Officer Schnyder's door.

"Come in." She was typing away on her desktop a report for another case file. Another officer came in, holding three cups of coffee.

"So, I heard that officer Flame is visiting today…" They inquired. Grillby had been on the force for a rather short time, in between coming to the surface and restarting his bar. He was an excellent man of the force, efficient in what he did and knew the laws better than the average officer. After only two years, he resigned to many of his coworkers' dismay.

"Yes, he's acting as a guardian for someone who was involved in the Brenton case, the one at Waterline apartments." She never took her eyes from the screen.

"Really? Guess he never really gave up the ghost, huh?"

"Anyone like him never really leaves the force. They just become indirectly involved. We all know how massive his record is, especially with all the cases involved with his bar." The record was not bad, but was littered with cases from the bar where he had to stop brawls and anti-monster attacks. There were the odd cases here and there where Grillby could not keep his high moral compass from interjecting into outside situations. _Perhaps that's why Clara took a liking to him_, Schnyder thought.

"Officer Schnyder… do you miss him?" The head officer had to fight to keep her composure. Everyone in the police, and even the fire station and ambulance, knew that she had once crushed on the elemental. He knew too, of course, but kept things professional. The lifelong bachelor was never bothered by such things.

"I miss his dedication. Your boldness precedes you, Diana." She warned. Diana placed the coffees on the desk.

"Sorry, Nadia, I'll let you get ba-" A small knock came from the open door. Looking around, the two women saw their gossip standing in the doorway. "Grillbert!" Diana raced forward and slammed herself against him into a hug. Wheezing, he returned it.

"Good to see… you too, Diana." Releasing him, she bounced on the balls of her feet.

"Everyone misses you, you've gotta come see everyone when you're done!" A throat cleared behind her. Schnyder was glaring at her.

"Officer Diana…" The young officer meekly slinked away without another word. Grillby smirked at her.

"Busy?" Rolling her eyes, she gestured to the two chairs in front of her desk, each with their own coffees in front of them.

"I thought she would have sobered up after seven years…" She mused. "How've you been, Flame?" She gave him a weak smile. He and Clara took their chairs.

"Nadia, you know I hate that 'last name' thing that the government gave me."

"It's still your name, Grillbert, like it or not." He cringed still.

"You also do know I prefer Grillby, but that's never stopped you before, so why would it now." He resigned with a sentimental smile. "And you?" She paused, putting the case file away.

"Same as usual." She withdrew a different file from her desk. "Now I'm sure you're aware of the procedures, Grillbert." She opened a new document on her computer, fingers ready to type.

"Y-Yes… Well, what do you know, first off, or does that not matter?"

"From the beginning, Grillbert." She huffed. "Please." The elemental looked to Clara, giving her an apologetic look. The officer looked absolutely exhausted, completely different from that first night. A half an hour went by as he relayed that afternoon and night when Gaster and Clara first came to him. Grillby zoning out as he talked to keep him emotions in check, and Clara staring at her hands. Once finished, Nadia sighed.

"You are aware that you've broken a few laws, Grillbert?" She sounded regretful.

"Yes. I knew what I was doing, Nadia. But how could you tell me I was in the wrong?" She just stared at him for a moment.

"I can't. I know your abilities, and you handled everything the way it should have been. If you were still with us, there would be no charges."

"If I were still with you, Gaster and Clara would have never come to me." She nodded.

"I know. This whole situation just… sucks." Sighing, she tossed herself against the back of her chair. Grillby couldn't help but snicker. "Well… now that that's out of the wa-"

"Wow, hold on. What about the charges? You can't just tell me you're going to ignore them." She smiled softly.

"Grillbert, you've saved this woman's life." Clara's head looked up now. "I think that's reason enough-" She picked up a few pages that were littered with writing labeled 'Criminal Charges.' "-for them to be dropped." A series of whirls and crinkling came from the paper shredder. "Oops!"

"Nadia… You shouldn't have done that."

"And you're in the place to tell me what I shouldn't have done?" She teased. They gave a reminiscing smile to each other. "Actually, I had one more question for you, Grillbert."

"Yes?" He was still a little shocked that he was not going to have to spend another few nights in jail, or pay an astronomical fine.

"The night at the apartment… what was with the water?" The elemental thought back to how that bastard stood there, waiting for Clara, steam pouring from the faucet. The idea of it sent a chill through him.

"I have no idea…" Sighing, Schnyder leaned against her chair. "I told you everything I know." Nodding, she turned to Clara.

"Yes… anyway, we need to move on. Clara," Her entire demeanor softened as she addressed her. Clara froze, not knowing if she was allowed to talk. "Do you think you can tell me about what happened between you and Mr. Brenton?" Clara looked to each of them, a slight ringing behind her ears. All she could do was shake her head. Hearing about all of this rekindled her obedience 'training.' Grillby pulled his chair closer to hers, taking her arm in his.

"We need you to tell us, okay? It's really important that we know. Otherwise, we can't put him away for good. It's not good to keep holding onto this. He can't hurt you anymore, you don't need to stay quiet." She refused to look at him now, eyes trained on the blue and grey tiled floor.

"… He hurt me." The room was silent._ It's a start_, Grillby thought.

"How did he hurt you? What were some of the things he'd say or do?" She was quiet again. Schnyder stayed passive in this, seeing her former compatriot knew what he was doing.

"H-He was nice, at first. We went on dates, he bought me small stuff, let me be with my friends. He got angry one time and locked me in my bathroom by blocking the door. I didn't want to go to a party with him because I didn't want to get drunk. He-He meant for it to just be the night, but… it was two days… I guess he forgot…" She trailed off. Grillby soothed her arm.

"Okay. What happened from there?"

"Everything was fine, but he stopped holding my hand, and let me trail behind the group, and he let his friends boss me around. He'd get mad if I didn't do what they said. He started pushing me, then hitting me if I didn't want to be around him or kiss him or something. I wound up keeping extra towels in the bathroom. He found out about it though." Grillby had trouble stoning his face, biting his lip and cheek.

"Did he do anything else besides that? Anything he said?" The way he said it hinted that there was something bigger, something hidden.

"Well… He didn't want me spending all my money, so he'd take my paychecks and give me the money for the week. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough for gas and a few meals."

"With that money, how often were you able to eat?"

"I usually had that instant ramen once a day. There wasn't a lot left after gas. He didn't want me overeating, a-and I was before he started regulating how much I was spending. He did the same with my clothes too. He thought that if he had my clothes, then I wouldn't have to worry about laundry and all, so I could focus on studying. I wasn't good enough though. He'd get really mad when I spoke back, so he'd hit me in the face. And…" She froze.

"Yes?" He placed his arm around her shoulders.

"Can I be alone?" This shocked the bartender. Alone? "Like… just Officer Schnyder?" Feeling a sudden chill run through his flames, he silently withdrew himself from her.

"Y-Yeah… sure. I'll be in the hall…" He backed out till the door closed. All he could do was stare at it. Schnyder looked to her, taking her hands off the keyboard, waiting patiently for her to speak.

***Volence Warning***

"He… if he got really angry, or if he was stressed, or if he just wanted to, he'd grab me and f-for-…" Her eyes scrunched close for a second, clearing tears from her eyes. "He'd force himself onto me… If I yelled, he'd choke me or force me against the pillow. Later on, he would… he… would use… things to hurt me like that… There was one t-time when he had his drunk friends over." Schnyder couldn't tear her eyes away from her, her hands limp on the desk and her mouth agape. "Sorry…" This shook her awake.

***Violence Warning Over***

"Don't you dare say sorry!" She flung herself up, causing Clara to flinch violently. "What that piece of shit did- I swear, he's gonna fucking pay!" She calmed down a moment, seeing the terrified girl. "I'll see to it… Personally. Someone like that…" She mumbled so quietly she could barely hear herself. "Grillby should have fucking shot him." Not to kill, of course.

"I… didn't hear that part."

"I-It's fine, wasn't meant to be heard. Just talking to myself." She sat back down. "I'm really happy that you told me this… and you should be proud of yourself." A thought dawned on her. "These 'friends' of his, how involved were they in all this?"

***Violence Warning***

"Um… they kinda just… bossed me around and stuff."

"Clara… You just told me that they raped you." Clara looked like she was going to be sick.

"N-No, I didn-"

"You said that he'd invite his drunk friends over. Did you openly give them consent without the influence of Kyle?" She fought to keep herself calm.

"N-No, but if I hadn't, then I would have been in trouble and he would have… If I… I was told to say yes, so they're innocent, they… It… I…" She seemed barely there, blinking slowly and deep, staring at nothing, yet her eyes moving.

***Violence Warning Over***

"Clara?" No response. "Miss Avery?" Nadia walk around the desk, kneeling in front of her so she could see her.

"He… made me." Clara slid forward off the chair into Nadia's arm, just holding. "It wasn't… right?" She asked.

"Clara, nothing, absolutely nothing, about this is right. Everything that he's done was manipulative, disgusting, and completely criminal… He's gone now. He's going to go away for a long time… I can't tell you how proud I am for you to tell me this. I can't begin to imagine how hard all this was. How hard it still is." Clara's soul wretched dangerously, but it didn't feel bad. She almost liked it… The feeling of being held and promised this.

"The water was for me, by the way." Nadia sat her back into the chair, taking Grillby's.

"What do you mean?"

"At the apartment. He'd do stuff like that. When I was really bad, he'd make me sit in the tub and pour hot water over me. Not boiling, but… really hot…" Her scalp itched at the memories. The head officer didn't know what the say. "It wasn't excruciating, it was just for a second. One time he made me stick my hand in it for a while though, but people got suspicious when I did my experiments with one hand."

Outside, Grillby paced endlessly, hands musing over his head, clothes, pockets, themselves, anything and everything that he could do to fidget. He had gotten use to the copper in his mouth from his lips being bitten raw, till he moved on to his cheeks. He knew he shouldn't do that, but it was better than scraping at his head with his nails just enough to leave trails in his flames; this was another habit he had, but did far less often. There were points where he just leaned his head against the cool wall, till his ticks brought him back to pacing.

"Stupid… fucking sound proof… I can't even…" These were times when he missed smoking, something Gaster had to force him out of for his own good. The knob twitched for a moment, and he was practically against the door in an instant.

"Guess we shouldn't leave him in the… hall…" Schnyder opened the door to see the man looming over her, a desperate and pitiful set of puppy eyes gleaming down on her. "You're pathetic." Was all she said before letting him in. Racing to Clara, he scooped her up and hugged her tight. If Nadia didn't know better, she'd say that he whimpered like a dog for a second. "Oy…" _Why did I use to like this guy?_ She thought, that is till the image of him in a uniform popped back into her head. _Fuck_… After a minute or three, Grillby lowered Clara back into her chair, messing with her hair and clothes as though she just had a near-death experience. All the while, she was quietly giggling at his distraught behavior.

"So, you're okay?" He finally blurted out. Clara nodded with a 'mm-hm.' "Good…" He sat back into his chair that was still pressed up against hers. Nadia shuffled some papers around.

"So, all that's done now… Okay, so Clara, we have a very nice doctor that you need to see-" Grillby interjected with a hand.

"That's already being taken care of, I'll have them send the report when she goes." Schnyder looked him almost incredulously.

"Grillbert, there is a rather strict time constraint. Marks can disappear within twelve hours, and being that it is already far past-"

"I understand that, but does that really seem like it matters if she goes to someone el-"

"Of course, it matters!" The officer stood, hands on her desk. "You know that more than anyone that time is our worst enemy; waiting for some appointment is-" The elemental flew to his feet now, taking a half step in front of Clara.

"And is that really what's best? We have plenty of evidence, it's not like we need mor-" Grillby felt himself being dragged back down.

"It's fine! I'll go!" Clara yelled, holding an iron clad grip on his arm. Her eyes were shut; she pressed her forehead to his arm.

"Oh, Clara." He ran his hand down her head, placing his chin to her temple. "Are you sure?" She nodded against him. He admired how strong she was.

"I just want to be done. I wanna go home." Clara pulled away, reaching around to hold her coat against her chest. Nadia nodded to herself.

"And you're okay with it being a doctor from here? They're trained to help people who went through-"

"I know…" It almost surprised them to hear her interrupt them. Grillby saw this as an improvement, where many people wouldn't. She was becoming her own person again. Picking up her desk phone, Schnyder let the phone ring.

"Waterline Case," was all she said before hanging the phone back up. "Do you remember where the clinic is?" She asked Grillby. He nodded as Clara flinched.

"Clinic?" She stood and backed away into the corner. Grillby followed her.

"No, no, no, it's not like that. It's just what we call the medical rooms, okay? It's just a bunch of doctor's rooms, that's all." He soothed. Dozens of red flags raised in his head. _Has she been hospitalized?_ He had to take extreme caution. "This is still your choice, okay?" Her eyes never calmed, but she slowly nodded. "Do you wanna put your coat on?" He gestured to how she was clawing into it, but she denied his offer. "Okay… Come on, it's okay." He tucked his arm around her, nodded to Schnyder, and let down the hall.

The whole way, he was whispering carefully chosen words to her, which seemed to help just slightly. Grillby walked her up to a similar door to the officer's and knocked.

"Come on in," gave them entry. The room was a normal office, but there was a doorway behind the woman in a white lab coat. Clara suddenly felt jittery, pressing into her guardian as best she could. "You must be Miss Avery." The woman chirped, her cheery tone cutting into Clara's trust. "And don't think I've forgotten about you, Grillby…" She eyed the man who shyly chuckled.

"Eh… yeah… No injuries on me this time, I swear!" He held up his free hand jokingly. The woman, apparently named Doctor Williams according to her desk's name plate, looked to Clara. "Clara, this is Williams. She used to take care of me when I got hurt. She's very nice." The doctor couldn't help but notice how he spoke to her as though she were a frightened child, simple and carefully crafted words. Clara nodded, half hiding behind him. "Can you go with her for a bit? I'll be right here the entire time, I promise." Grillby stepped out from her, gently pushing her forwards as she looked back to him.

"Why can't you come?" The elemental's face flushed a light blue for a moment, looking away.

"Y-You're a grown woman, Clara, it wouldn't be appropriate. I'll be right here." _Shit_…

"Okay…" Clara walked a wide path around Williams and into the next room, not even acknowledging her. The doctor looked to Grillby, a teasing smile playing on her face.

"Shut it…" He muttered, pocketing his hands deep.

Grillby sat there for close to forty-five minutes, scouring his phone till the door behind the desk opened, Dr. Williams stepping out and closed it. He tucked his phone away, leaning forward. Sitting at her desk, she looked to him, brows arched slightly.

"So?" Grillby started.

"You're looking after her, correct?"

"Yeah…" She nodded.

"You've got your work cut out for you, that's for sure." He sat there, immobile and blinking. She sighed. "She's got bruises all over her body, scrapes, and signs of trauma to her… lower region." She supplied as Grillby flushed again. "You cook?" He looked to her, unable to say much.

"Yeah…"

"Good. She's severely underweight." He began fidgeting.

"How much?" His brow furrowed and his lips slightly parted.

"She's supposed to be 120 to 130 pounds. She's 79 pounds… She's… also showing signs of this being intentional." Grillby's throat felt iced over and his eyes grew. "Her esophagus is worn from what I presume to be binge and purge eating. This behavior leaves behind very unique signs. Has she eaten much?" He flashed back to how she barely touched her breakfast the other morning, decided against lunch, ate only half of her dinner… before staying in the bathroom for close to twenty minutes. His eyes begged her.

"But… She eats so willingly. Not a lot, but she doesn't…" She reached a hand over to him.

"At this point, she's probably trained herself well enough to be able to trick most people. She's close to fifty pounds underweight, Grillby… I could count her vertebrae." He knew she was small, and that she was not very well fed… but this was a whole new reality for him. "An eating disorder is very dangerous, especially for someone in her situation. Find out what she likes, talk her through it, be there for her… but don't physically force her."

"I think I'll need to talk to Gaster about this… W-Where is she?" He glanced at the door.

"She's getting dressed, but is probably waiting now. I'll go get her."

"Wait!" She stopped and looked to him. "What about the… the trauma? I know she was bleeding, but she said it'll go away." Williams sighed deeply.

"I want to talk to her about that too, so let me go get her." With that, she peeked her head in and Clara stiffly walked back to Grillby, but instead stood behind his chair, leaning against it with her arms. "Okay. So, here's what's going to happen. Clara, you have a laceration that you need to be careful of. I don't want you doing any more than going from one chair to another, and only minimal walking." She pointed to the empty chair at this. Dishearteningly, she sat slowly, leaning on one of the armrests. "And you'll have to start eating again." Clara's head shot up, a twinge of fear in her eyes.

"I have been, right?" She looked hopefully to Grillby. "I had breakfast this morning and-and dinner last night!" He ran a thumb over her hand, being more conscious of the possible bruising she has.

"Yes, you did, but you need to eat more than a few bites, turtle. And… you've gotta keep it in your body…" Her complexion drained as she pulled her tiny hand from his.

"I don't understand…" He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I know you've been purging, Clara, that's why you're so underweight."

"I'm underweight because he made me!" She stood up and defended. "I-I couldn't eat, I had no money, he…"

"Clara… That doesn't explain why you spend twenty minutes every night in the bathroom always directly after dinner, why your throat is thrashed, why you refuse to eat anything but tea and toast!" He caught himself on that last part, not realizing it till he said it. What truly scared him was how her face contorted from anger, to fear, to misery, to aggression through a few seconds, hands curling into fists.

"Fuck you!" With that, she sprawled out of the office, taking off with surprising agility for the state she was in. It took a moment for Grillby to go after her, shaken from what had just happened. He turned from the office to see her making a run for the outside doors. There was a major roadway. It was the lunch rush hour. Thanking the long hall, he sprinted as fast he could, yelling down the hall.

"Help, stop her! Now!" Hearing to commotion, police officers came out from halls and rooms. A few were in front of her, but she made an immediate turn down another hall._ Fuck!_ Turning and gaining on her, he saw more officers entering the hall ahead. She was trapped and scared, stopping and reaching for the windows, she desperately trying to look for a lock or handle, sobs wracking over her panting breaths. Grillby grabbed at her hands, pulling her backwards from the window. She clawed and kicked at him, but her emaciated form could barely budge him. "C-Clara! Clara, it's me, sto-"

"No! Let go of me, let me go! I'm not-not going back! You said I could do what I wanted, you said I was safe! You promised, I hate you!" The tantrum nearly ripped Grillby's soul from his body into a fight. Holding himself from the encounter, he wrapped his arms around her, lying her on the ground below him.

"You are safe, you're not going anywhere! Clara," She devolved into shattered sobs, barely any strength left to meekly try to pull from him. "Please, Clara, you're not going back. We can go home, Clara. I'll take you home." She slowly stopped pulling, eyes barely open in sobs. He let her go slowly, only to find her arms barely able to reach up to him. Scooping her up into his arms, he held her as though she would die if he didn't. Tears pricked at his vision. "Lets go home… Lets just go home…" With shaking legs, he tried to stand, only to fall back on his knee. Trying again, he was able to hold himself up, but wobbled dangerously to the exit. Several officers held the doors for them, helped them into the car, and stood outside as they pulled away with Clara still in Grillby's lap.

Hours went by, Grillby holding Clara in his lap on the couch. The sun had set, pulling them into the soft flicker of his flames. Over time, screaming sobs gave way to silence, hands shaking and throats burning. He wasn't going to let her go. Never again. No one was going to get near her like _he_ had. He was never going to let her be put in a situation where she had a reaction like that ever again. The accusations of betraying her stung harshly in him.

Clara slowly slid her head up from his chest, eyes nearly swollen shut. With a broken smile, he pet her head, causing her to close her eyes for a moment.

"Hey there, turtle…" His voice wheezed and crackled. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, causing a single chocked laugh from the elemental. "I care… so much about you, you know that?" His chest buckled a moment. She reached up and pulled herself up a little with his shoulders, resting her head beside his neck, nestling into the crook. Grillby's soul jerked dangerously, gripping her tightly. "I don't want to let go…" He chuckled. He could just make out the words 'me too' play against his neck.

Pulling a blanket down from the back of the couch, he threw it over the two of them, pulling Clara back into his chest. Closing her eyes again, Clara relished the warmth he provided as she nestled deeper against him.

"Clara?" She turned her head up a little. "How do you feel?" She waited a bit before bringing her hand to her lower stomach, making a fist. He nodded slowly. "We'll get your prescriptions in the morning, okay? It'll stop the pain." Nodding back, she slowly delved into sleep. After several minutes, watching how she moved with his breath, Grillby contently followed.

***Author's Notes:**

** Very plot heavy chapter! Believe it or not, but this is where the main part of the story really gets going. Skeletons and feels are going to come out of the closet like Papyrus getting accepted into the Royal Guard while in the middle of getting dressed while simultaneously complaining about Sans' socks, pet rock, and the Dog!**

** Next chapter is going to be Clara and Grillby again, with a hint of Gaster. Later on, you're gonna get so much Gaster you'll be sick of him! **

** Love you all, Stay Safe!**


	7. Chapter 7: Out in the Open

Chapter 7: Out in the Open

Gaster hated to be disturbed when he was working on something that he was deeply enthralled in. Grumbling as he groped for his buzzing phone under the piles of papers on his desk, Gaster looked incredulously at the number. _Who the_-? He picked up.

"Who is this?" He growled. He didn't care who it was, they were disturbing his very important train of thought on a very prevalent human disease. He could be working on so many other things, but he chose to help the humans. Why were they interrupting hi-

"Busy as usual, ey' Gaster?" The feminine voice teased. "It's Williams, you know, from Grillby's precinct!"

"Williams!" Gaster had not spoken to her in ages, and only ever about medical records and the likes. They used to get drinks after their shifts back before the new lab was erected. She informed him of a decent amount of current human health issues. "Forgive me, I was… Yeah, I was working." He all but blushed at how she knew what he had been doing based off of how he picked up a phone. "How are you, I haven't heard from you in so long? Charlie still on his feet?" The line hesitated for a moment.

"Actually, Gast, I had a question in regard to a patient who came in." 'Gast' had been a nickname she used for him, against his begrudging opinion, but he grew to appreciate it. "She said she knew you, and that you were caring for her in addition to her guardian."

"You'll have to be more detailed. I care for so many patients that it would not be surprising that they said they knew me."

"Clara Avery ring any bells?" He paused.

"Y-Yes, I know Clara well. Is everything alright, why did she go to you? I-I'm sorry that came out wrong." He stammered. _Is she alright_?

"Yes, I believe so. Yesterday, her and her guardian stopped by to give her a full check-up. I think she would be a case more suited for you, Gaster… She has quite the file… This poor girl…" Gaster couldn't help his sigh from blowing into the receiver.

"I know… I'm helping Grillbz take care of her. I haven't given her any kind of look over, but I have… suspicions. If you could send the report…? I do worry about her. Grillby texted me last night saying that he wanted to talk to me about her. I guess about the report?" He suggested. Now Williams sighed.

"It's… probably more than that, but it's not my place to tell you. They're both safe and all, but I cannot tell you. I'll send the report, okay, Gast?" His chest deflated.

"Okay."

"Grillby really cares about her too. She'll be better relatively soon, I believe. Just keep an eye on them, okay?"

"Okay." They said their goodbyes and hung up. Williams was always a very kind person, occasionally coming to him about particularly troublesome cases. Was she worried more than usual about Clara? _What's on that damn report_?

Gaster tried to return to his work, his fingers occasionally typing, but not much came of it. When the printer and fax machine cued up, he flung up to it, even though it was right next to him. 'Clara Avery, Trauma Patient' was typed in black, bolded letters at the top. Pulling out the pages the moment the mouth of the machine released them, Gaster flipped through eagerly as he sat back down. 'Weight: 79 lbs. Height: 5'3" External bruising… most parts of the body… scratches in multiple stages of repair… Signs of moderate to severe mental trauma… Possible haphephobia…' Gaster was not surprised by any of this, and speculated as such, minus the haphephobia. The supposed fear of being touched was most likely due to the abuse. Picking up the next few pages from the continued report, he had to stop and refocus himself, the shock of it jostling his mind. 'Moderate to severe vaginal lacerations.' Lacerations meant cuts, and were typically deliberate in these regi-…

Standing suddenly, his hands flew to his mouth and stomach. _Fuck_… He had reasons for not getting personally invested in his patients. He had a high tolerance for gore and the likes, but the lack of humanity and moral sickened him. He knew humans had a far higher tendency for violence and clouded morals, but when he knew the victim as he did Clara… Opening the window beyond his desk, he begged the air into his lungs, clearing his ailment. _That_ fuck! Gaster spat to himself. After a few moments at the window, he forced himself to sit back down. He resumed the report, blocking out the previous part he had just read. 'Signs of continuous vomiting shown in decrease in esophagus lining. Possible signs of Binging and Purging behaviors. Patient states that they have been limited on food in the past, but 'eats well' now that she is with her guardian.' Gaster highlighted this part in particular. He had known that she was extremely underweight; anyone who looked at her could tell. This brought about an entirely different scenario.

The report ended there, but there was another page of notes. 'Patient fled in presumed anxiety attack. Guardian, Grillbert Flame, apprehended and calmed Miss Avery before leaving the premises. Must call back on patient's status in regard to their bleeding.' Anxiety attack? In relation to what?

"Damn it, Grillby…" Picking up his phone again, Gaster called the elemental.

"… … …"

But no one picked up…

"Fuck…" He called Clara.

"… … …"

"Mm?" A slumbering voice came, to his relief. "Gaster? What's up?" She yawned.

"Clara! H-Hey, how're you doing? Haven't seen you since the other day." _Sound normal, stay calm_.

"Mmm… I'm okay… Did you try to call Grillby? He went out to pick up some stuff and left his phone here." She mumbled as if she was still half asleep. The couch was slowly starting to feel more comfortable with each passing moment.

"I did, but it's not anything immediate." He stole a look at the time on his computer. 7:57. It took a moment for him to register the time. 7:57… 7:57… "7:57?" He shouted into the phone. It was morning? _Great, another all-nighter_…

"Ow, yeah, good morning…" She sounded distant, as if taking the phone away from herself.

"Sorry! I just… lost track of time is all… Did you eat yet today?" He did not care if he was lied to or not.

"No, Grillby went to go get my medication. He says one needs to be taken with food, so I have to wait." Gaster recalled on the prescription report that a placebo drug was given to be taken with food… so then she felt obligated to eat. "He said he'd be back by 8:15…" She sounded odd.

"Are you okay being on your own? I know you're twenty-four, but I get it if you'd rather not be alone." He basically was silently offering to stop by.

"No, not like that… It's just kinda weird being in someone's house without them here." _Hospitable girl._

"You know, you can make yourself some tea, coffee, or even toast while you wait; Grillby would want you to do what makes you comfortable." If she was hungry, it'd be best to eat while willing to, as opposed to through a fake medical responsibility.

"N-No, I'm comfortable. I'll just stay here." A high concentration of pain medication was on the list of prescriptions as well. _Poor thing probably doesn't want to move._

"Alright. Just do whatever makes you feel best. How'd you sleep?" He wanted to distract her from the possible pain she was in.

"Good, actually. I was pretty tired, I guess." She said it as though she slept for half the day. "I thought I'd be up half the night, but Grillby kept me asleep." Grillby kept her asleep? What was that supposed to mean?

"Kept you asleep?"

"Yeah, he was warm, and it stopped the pain and made me sleepy… H-He gave me a heated blanket! I-I was in the guest room, but the blanket turned off after a bit, s-so he kept coming in to turn it on!" She stumbled desperately over her lie. _Really_? _A 'heated' blanket_?

"Yeah, he sure was useful during nights at Snowdin!" He jested. She paused.

"What?" She barely spoke above a whisper.

"Yeah, Snowdin was pretty chilly some nights, so being with a literal fire made for some pretty comfortable nights. Everyone went to his bar to get warm." Now he was just teasing her, and vicariously poking fun at his friend. He was far too much of a gentleman to be a literal whore just for his warmth, but that never stopped the brotherly jokes.

"Oh, yeah, the bar! That makes sen-" Clara's voice grew distant. "Hey, Grillby… Yeah, it's on the counter, Gaster called. I'm talking to him now, if you want." Another voice could barely be heard.

"… -robably slept on his desk again." Grillby's voice was next to the phone now. "Hey, G, what's up?"

Holding the phone his head, Grillby took to the kitchen, beginning to prepare a simple breakfast. Gaster was suddenly getting cold feet.

"H-Hey, Grillbz… Uh, listen, Williams called me about Clara coming over yesterd-"

"Everything is fine, don't worry about it." Gaster was taken aback.

"'Fine?' You can lacerations and bleeding 'fine?' You call an eating disorder 'fine!'" He was shouting now. "Do you have any idea of the repercussions this could have; how dangerous this is? If she loses any more weight, she'll be hospitalized, Grillb-"

"I won't let that happen…" could barely be heard over the one-sided screaming match. His voice hushed. "I'll take care of her, I promise."

"Grillby… I know you're capable of this, but… I have seen people _die_ from this. I watched them willingly rot. This is more than getting her use to eating again." Silence.

"I know. Hey, G?" Gaster held his breath at how quiet he was. "Could you help me with this? You know so much more about how… people like her think. I know how to handle the panic attacks, the self-destructive thoughts, letting open wounds heal, all that stuff. But something like… like this…" He stopped.

"If you cannot say it and accept it, how can you expect her to? You need to show her that confronting this is not bad. Terrifying, yes; but fear is a good way to help see where she is in all of this. If she's afraid, she's trying. Don't force her beyond offering food and a gentle nudge. Leave the nastier part of that to me."

"… What do you mean 'nastier?'" Grillby nearly crushed the egg in his hand with how suddenly tense he got.

"When you push someone in her position, you need to choose your words very carefully. It can cause fights, backtrack progress, and cause distrust, which is worse of all. If she does not trust you, she will never be able to get better with your help. Think of it like if someone tried to convince you that rain wasn't harmful to you. In your experience as an elemental, you know it's painful and bad, but someone is trying to convince you that it won't hurt this time. That's her with eating and gaining weight. I only want you to offer her a hand and support in that rain. When it comes to explaining why the rain hurts, leave that to me. Once she accepts that it's good to eat and gain weight, she won't be as scared and will be more open to it. Find out what she likes, and try to choose low calorie and low-fat foods. While she needs those more than anything, she is not ready for that now. Toast, clear soups, fruit, vegetables- uh, just stay away from apples… Bad 'diet' associated with that."

"Uh… huh…" There was so much to take in, to consider, to avoid, to change. Grillby found himself wondering if the eggs in the pan were too high in calories for her to handle. _All I can do is offer._ "Thank you, Gaster, really."

"I'm here for Clara as much as you are; but I'm also always here for you too, Grillbz." They smiled through the phone. "I'll call you later, maybe swing by."

"I'd appreciate that…" Grillby hung up, closing his eyes and calming himself. He felt oddly tranquil, guided. _Thanks, G._ That is, till he heard the over-easy eggs pop in their nearly burnt sizzle. Flipping them quickly, he sighed and set to placing bread between his palms. Clara found it interesting to watch, but she was still immobile on the couch, possibly back asleep.

Grillby wanted to try something different. Instead of filling her plate for her, he set the pan of eggs and the plate of toast on the breakfast nook, putting two empty plates in front of them. Perhaps taking what she wanted would make her feel less intimidated. Next to one plate, he set out two single pills, the pain medication and the placebo, and a cup of tea. Walking over to Clara, who he confirmed was indeed back asleep, he ran a hand over her head. She leaned her head up into his hand.

"Hey there, sleepy turtle. Lets wake up for now, okay?" Clara peeked her eyes open, grumbling. "Come on, I'll let you sleep more in a little bit."

"I don't wanna move." She croaked. With a pang of remorse, Grillby went to retrieve the tea and pain medication.

"Here, it's the one Williams gave you." Barely sitting up, she stuck the pill in her mouth and sipped the perfectly heated tea. Humming, she sipped again before resigning back against the couch. "We'll wait a bit for it to start working, okay?" Grillby pet her again, and got up to return the drink, hoping that she will at least attempt to eat as he blankly stared at the pan of eggs. He lingered a bit too long in front of the food, mind mulling. A creaking moan brought his attention back around. Clara was trying to sit up, or stand? Her movements were broken and angled, trying her best not to disturb her body more. What with running like she had the other day, the pain must be close to crippling. "Wait, hold on." Slowly, he lifted her up and placed her on the nook's stool. She leaned back against him, even after he set her down. She was so tired, eyes black from the past few days. Grillby brought his arms around her shoulders into a hug. "You've been through too much, little turtle." Wearily, she brought her head back to rest on his chest. For a moment, the elemental was so content that he thought he would fall sleep too if he stayed like this any longer.

Arousing himself up, he sat next to her, beginning to put some eggs and toast on his plate. Clara reached forward and grabbed two pieces of toast. Breaking a small piece off, she held it against her lips and slowly nibbled on it. She avoided the crust, taking pieces no bigger than a dollar coin at a time. Only two pieces in, Clara reached for her other medication, but was stopped when Grillby covered it with his hand.

"You need to eat more than that for it. How about…" Grillby took what was left of the first piece of toast and broke it in half. "That much, then you can take it, okay? I've ignored the food warnings on medication before; trust me, you're going to want to eat." He was fooling her, but it worked. Sighing, she broke the portion size into more dollar coin sized pieces and began nibbling again. Grillby couldn't help but smile. She was already improving, or seemed to be. He'll have to keep a close eye on that bathroom door…

"Say…" Grillby started, packing away the leftover eggs that had been barely touched. "did you ever pick any clothes out to buy?" He knew she had not, but that's not what mattered. Clara shook her head slowly, looking down at the oversized sweatpants she wore the other day and Fuku's shirt. "Okay, how about we go out and get you some today?"

"I still don't have any mo-"

"Clara…" Grillby turned around to her, arms crossed and a smile that said 'we've discussed this.' She huffed and suddenly felt guilty having to borrow clothes from not only him, but his niece too. "Even if I did let you pay, it'll still be a few days until Schnyder can get the bank account back, now that she can officially convict him." His smile turned a little smug for a second. "Come on, it'll be fun." He didn't know that. In fact, he thought this would be like pulling teeth for the both of them. But Clara perked up a little, sucking on her lip as she tried to hide a smile.

"Okay." She said. Slowly getting up, she felt less pain as the medication finally eased her a bit, and went to change into something less baggy. She may have had limited options when with Kyle, but still maintained a standard of not looking like a slob in public. She found her formerly dirty clothes neatly folded at the end of her bed before she peeked her head around the door. "Hey, Grillby?" _Where is he_? From across the way, she saw the elemental peek his head out from his room as well. _Is he… shirtl_-

"Yeah?" _Don't stare, you moronic slut…_

"Do you mind if I shower?"

"Not at all, by all means!" She couldn't tell, but she thought he smiled before he dipped his head back into his room. _Why was he so cheery about that_? Skepticism and paranoia began lacing her thoughts. _Why does he want me to shower, do I smell that bad? It has been a few days… does he have a hidden camera? He has a lot of money, he probably has cameras everywhere. He's probably seen me… Is that why he's in his room? Is that where the computer for it is? Shit! He can see me just standing here! I-If he knows that I know- no, I'm being stupid, there's no hidden… what if he's paranoid too, that's why he has a gun? What if he has the gun because of me, for me? I can't be out of line. I have to do what he says_…

Grabbing a set of clothes, she scurried into the bathroom. Turning the shower on and undressing, she showering as fast as she could. As she stepped out, she looked into the steamed mirror. Turning sideways, she sucked in her stomach that was only 5 ¾ inches wide. Sucking in, she was an even 5 inches. Facing front, her stomach was 7 inches long… still too much. Looking down to her thighs, she began to rock a little. She could only just wrap her hands around them, so that her fingertips just touched. She wanted at least a fourth of that gone. But her hips? With a slight smile, she traced her hip bones, and how her skin dipped inwards as she went towards her naval. It was beautiful to her, the tightness and curves. And it was all being ruined. _He_ was ruining it!_ Both of them_ were ruining her! Aggressively putting her clothes on, she left the bathroom. _He_ was sitting there, in his stupid perfect clothes. She saw his muscles when he had no shirt. _He_ was perfect, and was just showing off. Showing of his wealth, his power, his body. _He_ got satisfaction over looking at her disgusting self, seeing how much better he was than her.

Grillby looked up to see Clara leaving the bathroom, but… why was she glaring at him like that?

"Clara, you okay?" He stood up. _Oh sure, fucking mock me_. "Hey, what's wrong?"_ Go. Away. You're what's wrong. What's wrong with me_? Her glare twitched into something else for a moment. Grillby squat down in front of her and went to hold her arms before she flinched, stepping back. _Don't… please don't… I don't want to be touched. I don't want to be hurt, you promised. He_ promised. Grillby didn't know what to do. Maybe she didn't want to leave the house? He didn't think he was forcing her… The bartender saw how she was grabbing at the hem of her shirt, pulling it tight. "I need you to talk to me, Clara, okay?" He thought back to how Gaster helped him through his panic attacks in the past. "What're you thinking?" Her anger seemed to waiver into… fear? Was she just scared this whole time? "Please?"

"D-Don't touch me…" Clara's skittish voice could barely be heard.

"I won't touch you, I promise." Grillby sat down on the floor, folding his hands between his legs, looking up to her as he tried to look harmless.

"W-Why do yo-you have a… a g-gun?" _No, he knows you know now, run! You need to leave, run! He'll shoot you!_ Grillby looked confused to her.

"Clara, I was with the police, I thought you knew that. I have it for protection. That's all. I don't even like to have it, but I… I don't know, I just do. It makes me feel safe. I sometimes get paran- Oh, Clara… Did you think I… Clara, I would never, _ever_, in my life use it to kill! I only would use it if I had to, to save others. That's the only reason!" He stood up, wanting so badly to hold her in some way, but resigned to holding his elbows. "Clara, I know you've been through so much, but please, you have to believe me! I'd never let anything happen to you, I'd never forgive myself if you got hurt again!"

_He's lying. He's going to shoot you the second you let your-enough, no I don't want to anymore, no. I just want to go back, I don't want to know, it's not real._ Clara hadn't realized that she had walked up and hugged her guardian, silently crying. Slowly, his arms wrapped around her, seeing if he had permission.

"I can't stop thinking like this, I hate it and it makes me think that you're bad and that you're gonna hurt me or kill me and I'm scared and-and…" All she could feel was betrayal for herself, resentment at her abuse, and guilt for hurting Grillby like this. That, and how his arms held her tighter, how he pressed his head against hers, as his fingers soothed in gentle scratching motions.

"I'd never do that. Never." For a while, they stood there, before Grillby pulled her away to look at her. "Is there anything that can help you believe me a little more?" She thought for a second.

"You don't have to… But… I know it's your room and all-" Before she could finish, he was starting to walk her to his room. Letting go of her shoulder, he opened his door and gestured her in.

The modern and cozy room was not all too luxurious, but was not cheap either. The king-sized bed had a fancy wooden head and foot board. The massive rug that covered the floor was plush and a warm brown color. His double door closet was on the left, and a dresser with a tv on it to the right. Next to it was a door that was cracked open. On the same wall as the door they stood in, there was a three-foot-long table with three drawers, side-by-side; it had all sorts of pictures, accessories, and even a bit of jewelry on it.

"Look anywhere you like, as long as it makes you feel better. I've got nothing to hide." He waited by the door, letting her explore. Clara glanced back to him as though he would pull a knife on her. First, she checked the table next to her. Photos of a young, green fire elemental with a rose color elemental adorned most of the frames. Opening the first drawer, she found what looked like random papers, 'Proof of Citizenship,' 'License to Serve Alcohol,' 'Legal Identification;' all boring legal stuff. The next one had a jewelry organizer in it. There was a ring or two, a few necklaces, and bracelets that seem to have been made by a child. There was one necklace that seemed to stand out, carefully placed in its own spot. This necklace was a thick wire circle, with thinner wires making the shape of a tree. Green stones made up the leaves. "My mother's." Clara felt guilty looking for so long at it, closing the drawer and opening the next. This one had two pairs of sunglasses and three different style watches.

Nothing. Passing a skittish glance to Grillby again, she went to the dresser. Opening the first… second… third… fourth drawers… All undergarments or out of season clothes. Nothing. She stuck her head into the door next to her. It was a rather luxurious master bathroom, complete with a soaking, massage tub, and a walk-in shower. She thought for a moment why he would need these things, but it wasn't why she was here. Turning around, she peeked under the bed. Shoes… many shoes?

"Eh… alright, shoes are my guilt pleasure." He tucked one foot behind himself as if he was trying to hide his early 1900's styled shoes, a slight blue blush on his face. Nothing… She moved on to the closet. Opening both doors, she saw more clothes, all seeming to be things one would wear in early spring. Pushing through the clothes to the back wall, she almost wanted to see the computer hooked up to the cameras, but it was just a wall. To the left, there were some abandoned things, such as some piled up books, few worn boxes, and… was that a black sword? To the right she found a five-foot tall safe. She knew it was locked, but tried the handle anyway.

"It's always locked." Clara looked to him as he walked towards her. She backed away from the closet. Blocking the combination knob with his body, Grillby unlocked it and held it open. "Look, but don't touch." He sterned his voice. On the top shelf was his pistol, still in its black holster besides half a dozen packs of bullets. Below were three more swords, each in ornate sheaths. On the bottom were envelopes and folders of what were probably legal documents and another aged box. Nodding at the locker, Grillby secured it again, leaning his hand on the top of it. "I-uh… Those swords were from… back on the surface. I'd appreciate it if you didn't ask about it." Resigned, he sat on his bed. "They've been in there since the safe was installed, any I don't plan on ever changing that." Pulling open his nightstand, he took what looked like a thin, lavender colored tube, which he sucked on. Clara looked at him incredulously, which he caught as he spoke with wisps coming out his mouth and nose. "I-It's not nicotine or anything. It's vegetable glycerin with edible essential oils." He let out a scoff of vapor, bringing the vape pen back up to his lips. "Like Gaster would let me within one hundred feet of a pack of smokes again…" He dragged deep and fell back onto the bed, wisps of… vegetable glycerin… arching with him. Walking over, she took a peek into the open drawer, she saw several bottles of prescriptions, scraps of papers, and an overall mess. A knee closed it on her. "Nothing in there you need to see…" He spoke with his eyes closed, bringing the pen to his mouth again. Thrusting himself back up to his feet, he pocketed the pen and left only to fall into his recliner in the living room as Clara followed. She stood on the far side of the couch.

"I'm sorry…" Grillby seemed a bit more refreshed being out of the room.

"Nothing to be sorry about, I offered, didn't I?" He leaned his head back, suddenly exhausted. Even though he was an 'immortal' monster, sometimes his age caught up to him. "Actually, Clara…" She looked to him. "Can you grab me the other one of these pens from my nightstand, the orange one?" He felt his legs grow numb with his lack of energy, the flames on his head growing shorter. Clara raced back into his room, worried for her guardian. Rummaging a bit, she found it. Taking a moment, she took note to how it had three different essential oils listed on the side. Guess he wasn't making it up. Racing back, she gave it to him. Wearily, he dragged on it for about four second, held it as tendrils of vapor seeped through his nose, then sighed. His flames perked up a bit.

"Thanks…" He sat up and looked to her. "I get er… overexerted sometimes… This one in particular helps with it; the purple one helps with anxiety, but it can sometimes be a bit too relaxing. Usually I have to use them back to back like that, but I forgot to grab it." He slunk to the kitchen, starting to brew a cup of coffee. "Oh shit, we were going to go get you clothes, huh?" Clara nodded.

"If you don't want to-"

"No, no, I'll be fine after some coffee, promise. Are you, though?" Looking to the side, Clara wondered if she was okay. While she was far from 'okay,' she thought she'd be fine enough. The idea of trying on new clothes, and not having to rely on him for something to wear, brought her mood up.

"Yeah, I think I wanna go!" She couldn't mask her excitement much. This brought a smile to Grillby's face. Pulling a travel mug from the cabinet, pouring the coffee from the ceramic mug into there.

"Then go on, get your coat!" He smiled over a sip.

* * *

**Author's Notes: So this chapter was mostly about seeing how these two think and interact. Both have histories of paranoia and such; Grillby's from his past, and Clara's from her eating disorder. I wanted to show some insight to Grillby's personal life, and several ideas/items that will reoccur later. (Small side note: Eating disorders can cause many different personality issues, as with the mental trauma Clara went through. If her personality seems sporadic and bipolar, that is why.  
**

** Grillby's mother's necklace is similar to a Tree of Life. I would attach a picture, but I don't know how/if you can for individual chapters. **

** New faces in the next chapter! They are one of my favorites, so I hope you will enjoy them!**

**Stay safe, Lovelies!**


	8. Chapter 8: Sharks

***Warning: This is a heavy chapter relating to suggestive themes, abuse, and stalking! Skip to the author's notes for a summary!***

Chapter 8: Sharks

They walked into the large, one-stop-shop, chain store. It was relatively cheap, but good quality for clothes. Grillby led her up to the help desk, asked something Clara didn't bother to hear, too busy looking around the store. What she did notice, was the wheelchair that Grillby was now trying to put her in. Obviously, she stepped back, confused.

"You can't be walking around, Williams said so."

"I feel fine, I'm not even in any pain!" He knew this was going to be trouble.

"That's because of the pain killers, but later on you will be. And it'll make things a lot worse, please." Looking worried, Clara felt a pang of guilt. He was going through so much trouble for her, she was just making it harder for him. Sighing, she sat down, childishly ignoring the slight strain she felt doing so. Grillby pet her head a moment. "Thank you."

They spent a good hour or two going from rack to rack, to Grillby watching as she came out of the dressing room with a massive smile on her face, nearly hugging the clothes she decided on, to her leaning in to look at different accessories. Clara wasn't a girly girl, but not a tomboy either. Some days she liked cute sweaters, and other days settled on hoodies. Skirts were out of the question though, and for the time being, so were dresses.

Someone tapped on Grillby's shoulder. Looking around, he saw a woman about in her fifties. She looked… wary. _Don't be anti-monster, don't be anti-monster…_ Clara seemed too busy looking at crossbody bags to notice or care, and Grillby hoped so.

"You're with Avery, yes?" She whispered, barely audible. Said young woman listened in, but showed no signs of it.

"Yeah… you are?" She looked side to side for a moment, not turning her head.

"I'm the mother of one of her classmates. My son told me that he overheard Kyle's friends talking about her. He thinks she's in danger. You _need_ to listen to me; these guys are seriously dangerous. They're like their own gang. There's at least ten of them, he said. I'm not coming to you again; if they find out me or my son know… Look, I've gotta look out for my son. Please be careful." She composed herself before leaving, looking aimlessly at the display a few feet away, then walking away. Grillby could only blink. _A gang_? He suddenly felt insecure, wishing he had his pistol. They had to get out of here…

"Come on, Clara, we should get going, we'll come back again later…" Ignoring Clara's small huff, he glanced around him as he wheeled her to the register, taking note to every face around him, making sure none repeated as he went through the store, men especially. A single man in a women's clothing department, two men a few feet from the section next to them… It's natural to look at someone in a wheelchair, right? Most people pass a glance, and he was a literal walking fire… of course, they'd be looking… Grillby walked a little quicker… There was a line, a fucking line, at the register… As they waited, Grillby took out his phone and brought up a number he kept from back in the underground, hoping it still worked… The man from the women's clothing section reappeared with two different men… Grillby called the number.

"Yo, who the fuck is this? Call the office, not my perso-"

"Undyne, Grillby, yellow shark teeth…" Clara looked up to him confused. He waved it off with a small smile. She turned back, deciding it was none of her business. But she knew better. She knew those faces.

"Grillb- Where?" He gave the exact store and location in the store. "Sending back up. Do you have your pist-"

"No, two bags." The code echoed in the fish monster's ears. Immediate danger, no pistol, and with someone else…

"Weapons?"

"I don't know. Probably." Grillby tried not to stare at the men, who he swore were getting closer, but he could have been imagining it… He trusted Undyne's guards would get their soon. After coming to the surface, the royal guard was disbanded, but Undyne decided to start her own protection agency under the police. Usually her guards patrolled different zones, so one was usually within five minutes of any location in the area.

"Still there, Grillby? Don't freak out on me." Blinking back, he glanced at more men to his right. The were definitely getting closer…

"Uh… Y-yeah, sorry… predatory." He whispered. This meant that the danger was approaching…

"Someone should be there soon, don't panic! Just stay around other people, and try to stay calm." Someone was behind him… Stealing a glance, he saw it was a woman, she was a little creeped out by how he was acting. Grillby was next in the self-checkout. Clara scanned her things for him and placed them in bags. A tall, muscular man, no more than twenty-five stood behind the woman next in line. _Fuck_!

"How soon?" He couldn't keep his voice calm anymore, his hand starting to shake. Clara had half a mind to say something, but her 'training' kept her quiet.

"They said they're coming in now, keep an eye out… He says he's in now. Look fo-"

"H-Hey, there you are!" Grillby suddenly interrupted her, shouting to the entrance of the store, waving. A male human in normal clothes walked up to him, but by his shark ring, Grillby knew who it was immediately. _A guard, finally! Yes!_ The guard walked up, acting as casual as can be. "I-I'll call you l-later, thank you so much!"

"You're not out of it yet, Grillby, keep your head on!" She said before hanging up.

"Hey, Grillby, long time no see!" The man spoke, hugging Grillby, but scanned around. Seven men… One gave a silent hand signal to the other… The guard whispered into his ear. "There's more of us coming, we'll wait in the café." They separated and the man looked to Clara, finishing up her items. "Hey there, I'm Jonathan! I met Grillby here when he first came to the surface!" She shook the outstretched and, but was wary of him, looking up to Grillby as she did so.

"Yeah, John and I go back a few years, h-he's okay." Clara caught on to his stammer, and leaned away from this 'John.' The bartender knelt down to her to try to steady himself.

"Lets grab something to eat at the café, okay?" John goaded. Standing back up, he saw how his hands shook as he swiped his credit card to pay for the clothes. His eyesight betrayed him as he punched in his pin number, having to retype it. As he pocketed his wallet and Clara grabbed her bags into her lap, another person came up.

"Joseph, there you are!" John spoke. Another shark ring… Grillby looked behind him… five men, two at the registers next to them… He couldn't tear his eyes away, suddenly feeling faint. A hand clamped onto his shoulder and turned him around. Joseph greeted him as Grillby leaned heavily on the handles of the wheelchair. Clara peeped as it tilted back a bit. This shook the monster out of his state, walking towards the café to sit. Grillby parked Clara directly next to his chair, which was facing the rest of the store. John leaned in. "You with us, Grillby?" He nodded, but was not really there.

Clara grabbed his arm, thoroughly worried. In truth, she had known something was up since that woman came up, but refused to let him see her worry. She reached and dug into his pant pocket, which shocked the guards a moment. Pulling out the purple pen, she held it in front of his thousand-yard stare. Shaking his head a bit, he gave a silent thanks and started taking breaths from it. An employee came up, most likely to stop him from vaping, but John and Joseph both tapped their rings loudly on the table, flashing the gold shark with an apologetic look. Most of the major stores knew what this meant, and she let them be. Grillby placed his head in his hand, vaping with the other, feeling a little more in control.

"S-Sorry…" He spoke through clouds of vapor. Joseph placed a hand on his arm.

"Grillby, we're going to escort you to your car, okay? When we get there, you're going to leave. Do not go directly home. Drive around town, down major roadways, no side streets, and come to the station after ten minutes. Okay? Repeat that back to me." Grillby lifted his head, leaning back as he pocketed the pen. He recited it back as though it was a section from the police law book he had memorized. The guards seemed content. Clara spoke up.

"Should I just leave the chair here, it's the store's?" They both nodded. John got up, taking her bags, and helped her up. Grillby was right, she was in pain, even being in the chair. Joseph helped Grillby up, but let him walk on his own. Grillby and Clara taking lead, the guards blocked them from men as they left. Clara couldn't help but notice they both walked with their right hands slightly curled inwards, the way Grillby did back at the apartments. Grillby fumbled with his keys to unlock the car. Getting in, Joseph, stood in the open driver's door.

"Stay calm, Grillby, the worst of it is over. We'll be following from a distance, okay." Nodding, Joseph closed the door, giving a reassuring smile as he left for his car. Still shaking, Grillby began to drive. After only one traffic light, he pulled out his orange pen, only to realize he grabbed the wrong one, digging again for the right one. Clara reached over and grabbed his hand.

"It's okay, Grillby, just drive." He couldn't breathe. He started hyperventilating, foot still on the break as cars honked at him. "Grillby listen to me…" His eyes grew distant.

"I-I don- I… gun, I need my gun, where's my gun?" Clara put the car in park, turning on the hazards, and turned his head to her.

"Grillby!" He seemed to focus a little. "I'm here, we're safe for now. Lets go to Schnyder, okay?" He nodded, taking a deep breath before putting the car back into drive, removing the hazards, and slowly driving away. They went in an eccentric circle through roadways, till they drive directly to the police station. Getting out, Grillby felt the need to run inside, but stopped when he saw Joseph and John pull in. They got out, helping each of their charges into the building.

Undyne's office was only a few doors down from Schnyder's. Grillby barely remembers being walked there, and did not realize it till he was sat down. Looking around, he saw the former Royal Guard looking very worrying at him. It was not like Grillby to act like this when he was on the force. It was one of the many reasons why he left. A blanket was placed around his shoulders, but he still shivered.

"You're okay, Grillby, you're here." Undyne supplied, going to kneel in front of the elemental. "Nothing's going to happen. You and…?" She looked to Clara.

"Clara." The fish woman nodded in thanks.

"You and Clara are safe. You're at the station, Grillbz…" Talking seemed to settle him a little, but far from calm. He just stared at the ground, breathing erratic and shivering. She sighed and looked to John. "I think he needs to see Williams to lie down." Hearing this, Clara was the first on her feet, trying to get Grillby to stand. Undyne laughed and gently pushed her away.

"Fuwahahaha! Look, Clara, I appreciate it, but I don't think that's a good idea." There was something Clara liked about Undyne. "We'll get a wheelchair for him, I think the big guy would collapse if he tried to go anywhere." Clara sat back down, nodding. She wanted to help, to give back. He looked so scared, uncontrollable, like a child whose lost their mother. In a minute or two, John came in with a wheelchair and they practically had to lift the elemental into it. The irony made Clara have to hide a smirk for a moment as they went to the medical room. Her, Undyne, Grillby, and John entered Williams' office.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Grillby! What now?" The woman shouted. Undyne had to stop from laughing as Williams trudged over, already bringing him into the back. "I swear, every damn time something happens, you gotta…" The lecture to the man who couldn't hear her continued through the closed door. Clara and Undyne looked at each other, barely able to keep their composure. Undyne was the first the break, cracking up as she held her stomach.

"I swear she's gonna make him pay for this, one day!" She cackled. John rolled his eyes, leaving. Clara didn't know why she was laughing, but it just felt good to. The release of tension, reassurance that Grillby was fine, the feeling of security, it all made her laugh for some reason. Settling down, the two women made their way back into the other office. Plopping down and propping her feet up, Undyne looked to Clara.

"So, kid, what's the deal?" Clara knew what she meant, but in all honesty, she was not sure.

"I don't know. Grillby and I were shopping, a woman came up and said something to him, then he got all paranoid, John and Joseph came up, we went into the café, and we drove here." She lied, but did not dare to talk about _them_. Undyne nodded.

"Okay… but what about you and G-man?" _G-man, really_?

"He's looking after me."

"Uh-huh, but I mean what's your _relationship_." She emphasized, leaning in as she took her feet down. Clara didn't know what to take this as.

"My file's probably on the computer or something." This surprised the fish monster.

"Wait, you have a file?" Typing away, she entered the names 'Clara' and 'Grillbert' into the search engine. 'Waterline Apartments Case' popped up with the lead of the case being Schnyder. "Do you… want me to read this? I mean, I don't have to if it's not related." Undyne may be a brash, and rather rude, leader, but she was not one to invade personal privacy.

"It probably is, so you'll have to anyway." Clara shrugged. "But, uh… It's made a lot of people angry…" Undyne did not like the way she said that. It was clear to her that this case was not normal.

"I'll try to keep it together, 'kay, punk?" She said with a small smile. The nickname make Clara smile back a little. She was like a cool, older cousin. Reading through the file, Undyne felt her eyebrow begin to twitch, her webbed toes curling in her combat boots. She decided to skip over the medical report, seeing little need to read it. "Damn, kid…" She said, leaning back, crossing her arms. "And this guy's been convicted?" Clara shrugged.

"Probably not yet. Schnyder said he would be though." Undyne nodded in thought, squinting at the computer for a second as her fins pursed to the side.

"Well…" Undyne leaned forward, giving Clara a smug smile. "You come to me if you ever wanna rant, okay, kid? Rant, hang out, shoot the breeze, I'm here for ya'."

"Don't you have work?"

"Meh," She shrugged. "Only when a call comes in, and that's not a lot." The guards were often issued to those already at the station, and those outside were few and far in between. It was a part-time gig, really. "Hey, I got this cool friend who I think you'll like! Since you know Gaster and all, I think you'll like my girl, Alphys!" Clara thought she's heard that name before. "She cute, funny, shy, a total nerd! She's into anime and gets really passionate about stuff, and she's a super good friend!" Undyne blushed red over her blue scales a moment, realizing that she was rambling about her girlfriend. "Uh, s-so yeah! She actually works at the labs with the old bones too!" This got Clara's attention.

"Really? C-Can I talk to her? I was thinking about taking up Gaster's offer to work with him, but I don't know what it'll be like."

"Wow, wait, Gaster wants you to work for him! Damn, kid!" Undyne was enthralled. "That's so freaking cool! You gotta talk to her!" Grabbing a note pad, Undyne wrote down Alphys' number and gave it to Clara. The former royal guard captain was always excited to see her girl being more social and have more friends. She got being an introvert and shy, but Alphys loved her friends. "You'll love her, she's got this thing where when she laughs, she sn-" A knock interrupted the captain. "What?" She yelled. Opening the door, Williams walked a now awake and standing Grillby inside, who rubbed his nose. "Oh hey, nice to see you among the living there, bud!"

"Undyne, please. The poor man's been through enough, he doesn't need your jokes." Grillby sat next to Clara, looking a little tired as he wiped his nose again. "How're you doing, Clara?" Looking around, Clara realized she was probably referring to her little episode the last time they saw each other.

"Oh, I-I'm good." She looked away. "Sorry about… before… I-I'm eating!" This was too awkward for Clara, and just wanted her to go away. Williams smirked.

"Well that's good. Guess you're the responsible one now." She said eyeing Grillby's back. Without turning, he flipped her off with a sniff, earning a chuckle. "Come back in about three or four days, okay Clara?" Nodding in response, Williams gave her good-byes, closing the door. Undyne looked to the elemental amusingly.

"So, what's with your honker, Grillbz?" He groaned, leaning his head back.

"I swear she uses smellin' salts as revenge." The captain burst into laughing again, hearing his accent.

"Serves ya' right! You've been in her office more than you were in your own!"

"Maybe cus' I did my job." This irked her.

"Hey, the guard was new! Of course there wasn't going to be a lot of stuff to do!"

"Coulda' joined us."

"And run around getting hurt like you did? Nah, no thanks." Grillby quirked an eyebrow.

"At least we caugh' the bad guys."

"Why you-! Okay, yeah, good for you, very impressive." She slow clapped. She wasn't going to let his antics get to her, he was just messing with her! "Anyway, mind explaining to me what the hell happened?" Grillby sighed.

"I do, actually. 'm exhausted. I really don' wann-"

"Well, too bad!" Sighing again, the bartender sat up, muttering a few choice words before starting his story. Clara looked down the whole time. She knew who these people were. They were all the same ones that bossed her around and took advantage of her. She felt sick just hearing about them, much less when her memories replayed. She felt her nose tingle with emotion as she recalled the pain they inflicted on her. She couldn't help but sniff, interrupting her guardian.

"I-I'm okay…" Undyne reached under her desk and offered a box of tissues. Grabbing one, Clara wiped her nose and looked away. Grillby took this as her wanting to be left alone, and continues where he left off. Undyne thought for a while when he finished.

"A gang… hmph, and I'm guessing that he was the ring leader. Now that he's arrested, these guys are gonna do whatever they can to see their 'justice.' Pricks." She looked to Clara, who seemed down, but not upset. "Got any names on these guys?" Clara shrugged.

"Only first names." Undyne clicked a few times on the computer before nodding at her to go on. "Bryan, Carlos, Zack, oh, Harold Brown! Devon, Milo, um… Sam, Jeramiah, Quinn, and Percy. Devon was the worst…" She recalled. Grillby took note to every single name.

"Why Devon?" He asked, unintentionally cold.

"He's the one… he… it was his idea to rape me with everyone else…" Without warning, Grillby flew up and kicked Undyne's desk with shocking speed, before he hobbled around a minute.

"Hey, that's my fucking desk!" It was useless, and she knew it. "That's what ya' get for kicking it, ya' doof!" They were both furious, but had to take it out on something else. "Why don't ya' go back to Williams, we're talking here!" Sitting back down, Grillby removed his shoe and sock to make sure he didn't cause any damage. Clara didn't know why, but she couldn't help but be interested in how his nails looked. They were a pale orange, but otherwise like human nails, so why was it so interesting to he- "Yo, kid, what, ya' got a foot fetish or something?" Grillby's face instantly turned blue and his flames shot up a good foot as he frantically shoved his sock back on. Clara turned so red even her ears were shaded pink, as she shoved her head into her hood.

"Undyne!" Both of them shouted.

"That's disgusting!" Clara commented.

"Yeah, and highly inappropriate!" Grillby would have punched her, if he didn't know she was just poking fun.

"And for the record, I was concerned because he just kicked a solid, wood desk!" Clara was not wrong. Regardless of just how hard Grillby could kick, there was not a mark on the desk, leaving whatever damage was done to his foot. Grillby felt the need to make sure he was okay again, the pain pulsing back, but decided against it. Undyne brushed them off.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm kiddin'!" Clara huffed at her. Grillby couldn't help but notice how comfortable Clara was, besides her embarrassment. Perhaps it'd be best if he wasn't here.

"I'm gonna go get some ice." He added as he hobbled out, thinking to himself that icing his foot wasn't such a bad idea.

"Freaking dumbass…" Undyne muttered. Her face dropped a bit. "Hey, kid, know anything else about these guys?" Clara really didn't want to think about this, but felt like she had to.

"Percy like to watch cricket, Quinn like Xbox games, Milo likes to read, Bryan also like games, Carlos is the nicer of them. He actually said sorry when he hurt me, and never bossed me around. He has a dog and use to wrestle in high school. Apparently, he's pretty good in his classes too. No one else is, I don't think. He has a car but prefers to bike, even for fun. He really is a nice guy… I think he just… got sucking into all of this. The others are nice at first, but in reality, they're asshole. Jeramiah loves candy, Harold lives with his parents, Sam is… nothing really stands out about him."

"And Zack."

"Fuck him." Undyne was surprised to hear this.

***Graphic warning***

"What'd he do?"

"He's worse than Kyle, that's what! He did anything Kyle said tenfold! He'd punch and kick me without being told to, he hurt me to most on purpose when he raped me, telling me I fucking liked it! He choked me till I passed out, I wanna fucking kill him!"

***Graphic warning over***

Undyne looked at her.

"Well, that's a pretty reasonable response! All on campus?" Her mind was already churning with plans.

"No, all off campus except for Kyle and Carlos, but I think a few of them have student housing in town." Not as simple, but still promising. There were lists of student housings on the campus website, and getting the names of the attendants would be a piece of cake.

"We'll get these assholes!" Undyne exclaimed, standing up and walking up to Clara. Hoisting her up, Clara was surprised to be placed onto her shoulder, having to duck from the ceiling. "Lets get this approved by Schnyder!" Racing out of the room, Undyne let out a battle scream as Clara clung to her shoulder for dear life.

"NYAAAAGGGG!"

"Grillby, help!" Shocked and speechless, Grillby sat next to the door in a chair, holding a bag of ice to his foot. It took a few seconds to realize what the hell was happened.

"What the… Oh, shit, Undyne, no!" Chasing after her with a limp, the three of them looked like some comedy skit gone wrong. "For the love of the stars, Undyne, don't drop her, don't drop her!"

"Ha ha! Keep up, ya' puny spark!" She ran faster, somehow.

Hearing the commotion, Schnyder opened her door, only to see her fish colleague only fifty feet from her and closing. Turning back in and against the wall, Undyne ran inside and skidded to a halt, Clara half hanging off of her.

"Miss Undyne, what is the-"

"Don't close, wait, I-Undyne…" Grillby staggered inside, barely upright as he begged for breath.

"What's wrong, outta shape, old man?" Undyne placed Clara down, who slumped to the floor. "Shoulda' kept training with me! Now you're soft!" How was this woman not out of breath? Grillby still was in rather good form, but no matter who went up against Undyne, they lost.

"Miss Undyne!" Schnyder yelled. "What have I told you about roughhousing in m-"

"Captain Schnyder, this is important, those friends of the guy who hurt Clara, we can get them, there's a list of stud-"

"Wow, slow down, Undyne, I can't understand you. Why are Clara and Grillby here?" She looked to the two people in question. "Are you two alright?" Grillby, still panting and leaning against his knees, gave a thumbs up. Clara just looked like she was nearly struck by a train.

"Uh… I think I need a hug…" Grillby limped over and sat down next to her, more or less leaning on her than hugging her. Ignoring his limp and how strange everything was, Schnyder decided it was all Undyne related.

"Okay, so maybe they don't need to be here…" Undyne concluded. "But it's super important!"

"If they don't need to be here, then why did you bring them here? You could have given Clara a concussion if she hit the doorway! And Grillbert could have had a heart attack or someth-"

"I'm not that out of shape, Nadia…" Grillby interrupted, ending with a yawn which infected over to Clara.

"You two can go home now." Schnyder felt sympathetic for the two. Not only were they going through enough, but it seems that life kept wanting to knock them down again. With an agreeing groan, Grillby helped Clara up and they left. "Now say it again, slowly!"

**Author's Notes:**

** I'm not the best at portraying Undyne, but I love her character! Of course, the rings were her idea. Kind of her idea of a mafia gang, but in a protective way. They are durable in case a few fists are thrown, and big enough to have any threat see them know to back off. The public respects them, and sees the rings as comforting, knowing they had someone to protect them, human or monster. **

** This is probably the last of the insight into Clara's abuse. From here on out, we have a whole other issue that is addressed, and honestly the main point to this story. **

** In case it was a little vague, Grillby left the force because he started becoming paranoid about others around him, especially since he's a target for anti-monster attacks. This wasn't the first time William's had to use smelling salts on the man! Stars, I love writing her dialogue! **

** Big Gaster chapter next! **

** Warning Summary- Grillby and Clara go to the store for clothes. A classmate's mother warns Grillby about Kyle's gang looking for revenge for getting him locked up. They stalk Grillby and Clara till Grillby calls Undyne, who runs a protection agency with the police station. Two bodyguards calm a very panicked Grillby down. They go to Undyne's office at the police station. Grillby has another run in with Williams. Undyne is filled in on the whole incident. Grillby leaves because he a dumb-dumb and kicked a desk. Clara takes a liking to Undyne, like an older cousin. With the info Clara gave Undyne, they believe they can catch this gang and lock them away for their crimes (same crimes as Kyle's).**


	9. Chapter 9: Her Voice

Chapter 9: Her Voice

Drowsy and spent, Grillby drove them home, only to find a black Maserati in the driveway and Gaster sitting on the steps.

"There you are!" Gaster said as he approached the two as they got out. "Wow… who beat you up?"

"Undyne…" That was all he needed to hear, recalling how he worried for his son, Papyrus, when he went for training lessons with her. "Why're you here?"

"Good to see you too. I told you I'd stop by." He looked to Clara, who was carrying several bags of clothes. "How're you doing, dear?" She nodded, also exhausted, but suddenly perked up.

"Gaster! Do you know Alphys?" She held out the number Undyne had given her.

"Alphys, yes, of course! She's brilliant in her work. Why do you ask?" He asked.

"O-Oh… I wanted to talk to her. Undyne said that… that she worked for you and…" Gaster smiled.

"Wanna meet her? You can come with me to the labs tomorrow. Your car is… still there…" He added, a little guilty that he kept forgetting about that. "You'll like her, I think."

"I-I don't want to-"

"It's not a bother." Gaster smiled petting her head, as Clara returned the smile, excited to meet someone for once. Perhaps Gaster will be able to ask her about working for him again.

Heading inside, Grillby slumped into his recliner, propping his, now swollen, foot up. Clara went into her room, happy that she can start filling her closet with clothes. She hadn't seen her closet so full of clothes in three whole years! It gave her a sense of pride as she placed her accessories and jewelry in a drawer. She sat there on her bed, looking at them for a few minutes.

Gaster had noticed the clothes when they walked in, and decided to question Grillby about it in a whisper.

"What clothes did she get?" Grillby gave a disgusted look to him.

"You fucking perv!"

"No, no, I mean… Okay, look. She can't wear anything formfitting." Grillby rolled his eyes.

"She's not a kid, she can wear what she wants."

"True, but she's sick, Grillbert, you know that. If she wears tight clothes, it will only provoke her to want to lose more weight. You should have asked me before getting them."

"I can't ask you if every little thing is okay." Gaster sighed, knowing this was on him.

"I'm sorry, you're right. Okay, things like tight clothes, magazines, celebrity tv shows, diet or exercise videos-"

"Wait, magazines?"

"Yes. Especially, magazines. Unlike tv or videos, those are all photoshopped. Nothing is real. Have you ever taken a good look at those pictures? It's pretty messed up…" Giving him a look, Grillby went to go find one… but he realized that he only had cooking magazines... Instead, he looked up 'fashion magazine woman' on his phone. Scrolling through till he found a full body photo of a woman in a swimsuit, he looked carefully at it. Her face was thin, but her cheeks didn't cave in like Clara's did. Her thighs didn't touch, her legs perfectly proportioned, but did not have boney knees like Clara. Their stomachs were thin and waists tiny, but not a single rib or vertebra showed. 'Grillby… I could count her vertebra.' Williams words echoed sickeningly in his head.

"I just… No person could look like this, it's impossible." He whispered. Gaster kept quiet. "She… Does she think she looks like this?"

"I'm not blind." Looking up, Clara was leaning against her door, facing away towards the kitchen. "I know what I look like, I know that it's all fake and photoshopped. I'm not stupid…" She wanted to say more, but didn't know what. The three of them were silent for a while. Gaster sat up a little more.

"Clara, I hear what you're saying. I will never truly understand it, having never gone through it, but I hear what you're saying." He got up, making his way to her with his head down and his hands in his pockets. "You're not blind, and you're not stupid… You know this is wrong… but, you just can't quit it… Or is it that it can't quite you?" Clara looked around her shoulder to him, her face mournful. She could tell he knew what he was doing, and that frightened her. No, it frightened _her_. "It's like you're two different people. But the real you is saying this is wrong-"

"It's not!" Clara barked.

"It is, listen to yourself." He took her arms firmly as she began to cry. "You know the truth, and yeah, it fucking sucks. Clara, don't shut yourself out." Her eyes were closed, trying to scrunch away from him, but the doorway and his hands were trapping her. _Yeah, Clara, don't shut me out._ "You're not alone, there's others who have gotten out of thi-"

"I don't want out!" _Good_…

"Shut up, and listen to me!" The doctor screamed at her. Grillby wanted to rip him off of her, but knew better. This is the 'nastier' part that he meant, and could see why. "That fucking bitch who keeps telling you to not eat is wrong! I'm talking to _you_, Clara, not her! You need to get better, you're sick-"

"Stop!"

"Do you want to end up back in the hospital?"

"Just go away, leave me alone!" _Get him out of here!_

"Answer me!"

"No, stop it!" _There is no 'you and me,' we're the same person._ She was full on crying now.

"'No' to what, Clara?"

"Stop!" She tried to thrash away again, only to stop.

"What are you saying 'no' to?" _Make him leave!_

"I don't want to!"

"Talk to me, Clara, 'don't want to' what?"

"I don't want to do this anymore, I want it to stop, I hate it!" _What are you doing?_ Her head dropped down as she sucked on short breaths, quieting. He quieted with her.

"What is 'it,' Clara, you need to say it." _Take back what you said… _

"I wanna eat again…" _You ruin everything_… She whispered through sobs. Gaster softened his grip and lowered his voice even more to a calming whisper.

"Why do you want to eat?"

"It hurts not to, I'm so hungry, but I don't want to gain weight."

"It's okay, Clara, you're not healthy like this."

"But it's ugly-" Gaster grabbed Clara again and pulling her into the bathroom. _Now you've done it_… Grillby silently walked in sight of them, but at a distance. Gaster let go of her, blocking the door.

"Take your shirt off." She backed up.

"I…"_ Go ahead, let him see you, gorgeous. That way he can lock us up. _

"Clara, please." Sniffing, she took off Fuku's shirt. She was just as bad as Gaster thought, even having never seen her body before. Grillby made some noise that was muffled by his hand from the other room when he saw her. The doctor's face grimacing slightly, his strong desire to help her fueling his harsh words. Gaster forcefully yanked her to stand in front of him, in front of the mirror. "_This_ is what's ugly. There's nothing 'beautiful' about this. Your skin is yellow, your eyes are sunken, your nails are brittle, your hair is frail, I can see the outline of your stomach for fuck's sake… _This_ isn't beautiful. This isn't 'pretty' or 'cute,' Clara. _This_ is _sick_. _This_ is what this is doing to you. Do you want to die?" The harsh tone shook her.

"I…"

"Do you want to die, Clara?"

"…" The silence broke him with every second. He hoped with every part of him that she would say 'no.' He has had patients say yes, and they never made it. Not. One. What Gaster would give to be able to hear her thoughts. Instead, Clara's knees gave out as she screamed in sobs. Gaster caught her practically weightless form and lowered her down, holding her close as he leaned against the tub.

"Shh, it's alright, I'm here. But answer my question."

"I don't want to." She bawled against him, shivering. He grabbed a towel that was draped over the edge of the tub and wrapped it over her shoulders.

"Have you ever wanted to?" Gaster could barely understand her.

"No-Not since y-you an-and Grill-Grillby…" Grillby couldn't stand this anymore and started to walk up, but a glare from the doctor stopped him where he was. He wasn't finished yet. Gaster rocked her in his arms.

"That's good, Clara, remember that. We're not going anywhere. You're safe now. You can finally start to get better. You can finally eat again, be happy, no more pain. Do you want that?" Quieting a little as he soothed her, she nodded against him. Smiling, he sat up and held her chin to make sure she saw it. This only made her cry more, but it was different. It was a good cry, a healthy one. Holding her, Gaster rocked her again. "Don't forget this, okay? Shh, I'm right here, I'm here. That bitch isn't coming back."

Clara choked out a laugh at his comment, sitting up to look at him and wipe her eyes. Gaster pointedly glanced at Grillby, still smiling softly. Clara looked to him, as he came to kneel next to her. Before he was even down, Clara lunged into his arm, nearly strangling him with her gasp. Now it was Grillby's turn to be emotional. Falling back onto his rear and with her between his legs, Grillby held her as tight as he could, sputtering cries till he was sobbing into her boney shoulder. He had his Clara, his real Clara, even if it was only for the moment. She was less of a turtle and more of… a rabbit. A small, silent animal who had endless love and passion to give. His little, spring rabbit.

Finally out of tears, Grillby lifted his head from her shoulder. She smiled at how his eyes were redder and puffy, how his nose was also red and runny, how his mouth really did resemble a cartoon of a sad puppy. Gaster handed him a box of tissues, which he took one, only to realize he did, in fact, need the box. Clara slid out from between him, rubbing her own eyes for a moment. While Grillby composed himself, Gaster took Clara's hand, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

"Feeling a little better, dear?" She nodded.

"Thanks." Oddly, Gaster rarely heard this from his patients, never able to be there after they're better.

"It will never be a problem." He would have added that they care for her, but did not feel that it was necessary to say. "Although, Clara?" She knew this meant something she didn't want to hear. "I am going to have to go through your things for anything you're not suppose to have, okay?" She didn't have much, so what harm could it do?

"Okay." Gaster smiled

"Thank you." He leaned forwards and gave a gentle kiss on her forehead before stepping around the emotional wreck in the doorway. Seeing him pass, Grillby looked up to Clara, his lips quivering, threatening to spill sobs again, but he just smiled through it. Both of them standing, they went to follow Gaster into Clara's room, sitting on the edge of the bed.

He started from one end to the other, going through her nightstand, under her bed and mattress, dresser, then her closet. She was happy to see he didn't take any of her jewelry, but did take out the two belts she had, understandably. Sifting through the closet, he went through each article of clothing. Three shirts and one pair of pants were removed.

"U-Uh… they're okay, right?" Clara stammered, suddenly feeling very possessive. Gaster knelt down and went through anything in the bottom of the closet. Standing, he took the belts and the clothes, setting them beside her.

"Okay, here's the deal. The belts are an obvious no. The clothes… I know this is hard, but you can't wear anything formfitting for now, okay?" He felt like he was taking away a child's favorite toy, and that's exactly what Clara's face looked like at this moment.

"B-But…" She stopped herself from looking through the clothes. That shirt was her favorite one, and she only had three set of pants. With a huff she pushed them of the bed like a disgruntled child. "Fine, whatever." Dramatically, she crossed her arms. Gaster scooped up the clothes and belts and gave her another forehead kiss. At least she wasn't throwing a massive fit… something he's seen far too much of to handle professionally at this point. One patient even went so far as to try to bite him. Bone on bone was never a good idea.

Following him again, Clara watched as he put the belts into his messenger bag, and laid the clothes neatly on top of it. He turned to see her begrudgingly staring at them.

"Not gonna take away my phone, put me in house arrest?" Grillby came up and hugged her crossed arms from behind, resting his chin on her head, sounding stoned out of his mind.

"Clara, be nice." She groaned to herself and walked out of his grasp, flopping onto the couch. Gaster felt guilty, of course, but he went and sat right next to her. Trying to ignore him, she turned on the tv, scrunching her legs up to her chest. Grillby had had enough of this emotion for one day, and went to his stress reliever: cooking.

"So, do you still want to come to the labs with me tomorro-"

"I'm not talking to you." He saw that coming.

"You know, Undyne probably told Alphys about you alre-"

"I said, I'm not talking to you."

"Okay, okay. Poor Alphys, thou-"

"Ugh! Fine! Yes! I'll go! Happy?" Indeed, he was. With a smile, he stayed quiet as they watched tv. Gaster was always an amazement to Grillby. A true introvert, yet his people skills were incredible. He could probably convince the president to give him the nuclear detonation button if he tried hard enough. _That's a thing, right? It's in so many movies._ Grillby knew rather little when it came to the political and governmental side of humans, almost laughably uneducated. This was something that became a running joke back at the police station when Grillby accidentally said something he heard in a show once. How was he supposed to know that there was no such thing as a Zombie Apocalypse Sector? It was all over their culture, so there had to be something about it politically, right? Turns out, a year after he left, he found several articles about how there actually is a governmental zombie plan! He smirked a little, remembering this.

They all sat down for a dinner of chicken teriyaki and rice mixed with vegetables. Of course, Clara picked the vegetables out of the starchy rice and ate them. She nudged the rice around and completely ignored the chicken. She couldn't have eaten any more than a quarter of a cup of food. Grillby got up and gave Clara a serving of the vegetables that were not mixed in with the rice. Trying to hide her annoyance, she cut them into smaller pieces and slowly ate them. She was eating, and that's all they could do.

Only two bites into the second serving of vegetables, Clara felt her throat tighten dangerously, her stomach heaving in protest. She didn't want this, she was eating too much, she was going to be sick, but they'll just make her eat again. Was this her? Who was she, which voice was really her again? In her confusion, she did not realize that she'd been staring off into space.

"You alright, hon?" Looking to Gaster, Clara felt the nausea return. She was still annoyed at him for taking her clothes, of course, but the sympathy and understanding he showed battled that. She just looked back at her plate, now nudging the vegetables around. All she could focus on was the disgusting chewing, the horrible sounds. How did they not hear that, how were they able to eat that? Having just about enough, Clara decided to take her plate and go outside. Neither men knew what to do about this, both baffled.

"Ever seen that before?" Grillby asked.

"No… but I don't think it was bad… I think." Getting up, Gaster peeked out the glass of the front door. Clara was sitting on the steps, her head in one hand and fork in the other. He was pleasantly shocked to see she was trying to eat the rice, the starchy, carb-loaded rice. Not wanting to be seen, he walked back to his plate.

"… So that's it, you're not gonna say anything?"

"She's fine, there's nothing to say." A small smile teased at his eyes. Grillby looked absently at his plate.

"So… who was 'her?' You made it sound like she was schizophrenic." He asked worryingly. Gaster immediately began rushing a wave at him while he finished a bite.

"No, absolutely not! I must make that _very_ clear! It is not a hallucination or anything like that. What it is, is that she is conflicted, and we all have our own personal monologues in our heads. Because she's so conflicted to this degree, it's that she is literally battling with herself as to which side of her to listen to. One side wants to be anorexic or bulimic. The other knows better. Most people who have an eating disorder have this second 'voice,' but what makes it different is that they _can_ control it, as difficult as it may be. A few of my patients have unfortunately named it their 'Ana voice,' spelled 'A-N-A…' I don't like that they name it. It's not a person, and it never will be." He glowered at his plate.

"Ana?"

"Short for 'Anorexia.' I've been fighting these Pro-Anas for a while now." The elemental nodded, ignoring the last comment as they silently went back to what was left of their meal.

It had to have been close to half an hour since Clara had gone outside, not a single word or sound. Finished cleaning up from dinner, Grillby decided to take a peek as well. She was now leaning against the wall of the house behind the door, legs drawn up and head cradled in her arms. The plate, with an untouched chicken, a third of the rice, and only a few bits of vegetables, was on the furthest side of the steps from her. Deciding to take some water with him, something he was rather cautious about, he slowly opened the door. She didn't move as Grillby sat down next to her, looking up to the setting sky. It was several minutes of silence of Clara feeling the heat radiating off of him, coddling herself, and Grillby looking from her to the sky.

"You know," He started. "The sunset was always my favorite part of the surface. That's why I chose this house. It's the perfect view." His house was rather lonesome, not another house for at least half a mile, along a forlorn road, overlooking a tree farm. He thought he saw her peek up a little. "When the sun went down, the fighting stopped, we knew we were alive for another day, and we could sleep, pretending that everything was okay for those few hours." Even though she stayed silent, Grillby placed his arm around her, scooting till her was against her. He swore he could feel her lean a little against him. "But now, I'm not so sure. Since coming back, I've enjoyed being awake. I can work at my bar, see my friends, see the sky, see you." She tensed up a little. For a moment, the thought that he was far too ancient for her passe- _No, nope, not a thing, nope. Shut up._ What point was he getting at?

Clara leaned into him now, and after few moments, wrapped her arms around his chest. Before he could return the gesture, she got up, collected the plate, and headed inside. Following her, he saw her abandon the plate on the counter before sitting on the couch next to Gaster. She was leaned against him too, hugging him a second, before retreating for her room. The monsters looked to each other. They were not sure what all this meant. Grillby felt a pang in his soul.

He opened the door a crack, seeing her lying on her bed in the dark.

"You okay, turtle?" She tucked her head down a little. "Wanna talk?" No response. She could see the orange glow on the wall she stared at grow brighter, till she felt the bed sink to one side. "Still mad at Gaster?" A slow head shake. "Conflicted?" Clara nodded this time, her feet twisting around themselves. "That's okay. Sorry that I don't know a lot about this stuff. I may be old as hell, but I've never met anyone going through what you are. I guess it's a more… modern issue, huh?" She looked over her shoulder slightly at him before looking down in thought.

"How old are you?" Grillby wasn't sure. All those years in the underground seemed to lump together. "Well… I was 163 when the war star- don't give me that look, that's like fourteen to human years!" He bashfully had a shade of blue across his nose. She was already in disbelief. "M-Monsters don't age like you do, especially not elementals. We only really die from… outside influences." He had to take a stammered breath after saying this. "I-uh… Fire elementals in particular are rather prone to those influences. Wind, water, smothering… I-It's a really painful death. We call it Dowsing… Instead of turning to just dust, like other monsters, we turn to dust and ash. And, during the war, we had very little protection from all that…" He realized he was rambling, something he found himself doing when he thought back on that point in his life. "Anyway, the war was… 132 years? Something like that. So, I was in my 180's then. I was so young… shoved into the dark. For all I knew, we had limited air, and being a fire, I took up a lot of it. Being underground… I was in my 500's on the… and… so, 1,865…" Clara's eyes got wider the more he talked. _But he's so… I thought he was in his 30's._ "So, I guess I'm in my… 2,560's? I think that's right." He looked from the numbers he imagined in the air to Clara. "Oh, come on, it's not that bad! Asgore is, like 4,000 something! Hold on…" Grillby got up and shouted from the door. "Yo, G, how old are you?"

"Rude!" Screamed back. "… 2,400 or something…"

"You are _not_ younger than me!" Grillby marched out pointedly. Clara had to see this! "I met you in the war and you were older."

"_You_ were older, that's why you hung out with Ember and all."

"Because they were elementals, not because we were the same age. That's ridiculous!"

"Well, Script was my age, and he was younger than you."

"No, you liked to preten' that you two were the same age. Script was on'y 123, an' I remem'er that 'cause he was exactly 40 years youn'er than me to the day." The elemental's accent seeped through again.

"Ah-ah-ah, not true!"

"Yes, true! How 'bout ya' do some car-bone datin' there, bone-bag!"

"Indeed, I shall, firefly!" Grillby huffed away, seeing Clara thoroughly amused.

"Oh, Clara! Sorry 'bout that." Realizing his accent, he cleared his throat. "S-Sorry about that." He enunciated. The scientist snickered behind him.

"What's wrong, Grillbz, age stuck in your throat? Got a little drawl there?" Something flashed across Grillby's face as he spun back around.

"Heshta ekeshtek!"

"Ooo, tough guy." Gaster teased. So, it was a different language that Clara occasionally thought she heard. Clearly, Gaster understood him.

"Tsk, neyahakta tch hekshet." Grillby sat in his recliner, looking a little triumphant as Gaster stayed silent. Clara sat in between the two. "Oh, s-sorry, Clara. I forgot that you don't know ancient elemental… It, er… slips over my tongue once in a while."

"It's pretty…" was all she could say as she sat down closest to him, causing him to blush a little.

"T-Thanks. A lot of humans find it… abrasive, is the word, I think. Hah, someone said it reminded them of ancient Egyptian. Please…"

"No, it's more… native sounding? Like if a fire actually could talk."

"… Clara…" Gaster gave her an amused look. "Really? He's a walking fireball, you just described every fire elemental in existence." Now Clara blushed, but Grillby just nodded slowly.

"But she's right. That's how we communicated, especially when we couldn't see the other's flames, which became a problem wh- nevermind…" She now perked up.

"When what? Come on, please!" Gaster shot up in his seat.

"Oh my stars, Grillbz, you're blue! Hah hah hah!" The elemental's entire face, flames on his head and all were now a bright blue through his hands, a little frantic in their movements.

"N-Nothing! It's nothing at all!" He looked past his hands to Clara, now avidly leaning over the armrest at him. She was so happy, excited even. "Fine…" He crossed his arms and looked away, thoroughly ashamed at how quickly he let his emotions be visible. "Before an elemental is associated into society, we tend to just stay grouped in our own 'firepits,' if you want to call it that. We were fire, we didn't need clothes; and it inhibited our ability to communicate. The flames on our bodies told what we wanted to say. We don't need a language technically, but our flames scared other monsters… Especially the forest elementals… Stupid fabric bullshit…" Looking back to the armrest, Clara looked a little mortified, and he felt self-conscious. "W-What?"

"S-So wait… so like… you would… Okay, I don't get it…"

"No one really does anymore, turtle, don't worry about it. It's a form that was lost because of how we had to develop in the underground. And, of course, stupid humans think it's 'indecent' to not wear clothes. Phft, bullshit." Even though he had not realizing that he indirectly insulted Clara, she did not seem to care, too lost in thought. He was glad that she didn't find it 'morally disgusting' as some humans call it. 'Naked children in a pit? You horrible, vile thing, how could you do that to your children?' He grimaced thinking of how little the humans understood his culture, so he had decided to keep it to himself after coming to the surface again. Like it was any different from a crib or play pen?

"So, it's like how your flames are colored, or like the heat, or…?" Grillby sighed. She was thinking so far into it, it was not even entertaining. Getting up, he went to his room and returned without his shirt. Gaster paid no mind, far too use to this habit that he had to even notice. Clara, though, had to do a double take. For a 2,500-year-old being he was… definitely fit. She shielded her eyes, not wanting to be caught staring. That was a punishable offense.

"It's fine, I wanted to show you what I meant."

"I'm good, thanks!" Now he was really self-conscious, looking down on himself. What was wrong with him? He looked like the other fit guys at the gyms and on tv, just with an orange layer of fire. Was it just that he was shirtless? _Oh geez… _

"You know, I thought you'd have been old enough to be out of this prudish phase." He teased. Clara looked over her fingers so she could only see his face. "Most people are fine with it by high school, but it's fine." He stuck his hands in his pockets, slowly walking back towards his room.

"I-It's not that!" Now he was smug, a crooked smile scrunching one eye.

"Yes?"

"I-It's not right to look…"

"Even when I give you permission?" He held his hands out at his sides as if to invite her.

"Oh shut it!" She hid back behind her hands as Grillby laughed back into his room. Hearing him leave, Clara grabbed her coat. "I-I need to make a phone call…" She told Gaster before stepping into the cold night air. "Shit…" Pulling out her phone, she brought up Officer Schnyder's number that Grillby had given her.

"… … …"

"Hello, Captain Schnyder."

"H-Hey, Officer Schnyder, u-um, it's Clara Avery."

"Avery! Is everything alright?"

"Y-Yeah, I was just wondering something. D-Do you have Undyne's number? If she's not busy; I just wanted to… talk, I guess." There was a slow pause.

"I can transfer you if you'd like, but are you sure everything is alright? What's this about?" _Just transfer me! Please!_

"N-Nothing! Just… girl stuff." _She's a girl too, dummy!_ A small laugh could barely be heard.

"O-kay!" She sang. There was something knowing in that tone before the line cut to another. _There's no way she could tell, right?_

"Yo', Undyne here!"

"U-Undyne! It's Clara."

"Hey, what's up, punk? Oh, sorry about before, got a little excited."

"I-It's okay. Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot, kid!"

"Uh…" What was she doing? Why would she tell someone this, and someone they knew? "S-So I have a question…"

"Well, yeah, you kinda already said that. What's got ya,' kid?" _Now you're in for it._

"S-So… Grillby was explaining something to me and I didn't get it, so he tried to show me, but I don't know, I just…"

"Kid… What did he show you…?" An ominous growl came through the phone.

"Something about how elemental communicated, and he was shirtless and… I don't know." Undyne relaxed a little.

"So, what's the problem? He does that a lot, by the way, especially during the summer. He says that it's more 'acceptable' then."

"He does? He hasn't since I've been around… Well, now I feel bad…" Was she making him feel like he couldn't do what he wanted in his own house?

"Oh, trust me, kid! He'd be full blown naked if no one was around if he could!"

"Undyne!" Bellowing laughter hit Clara's eardrum.

"Well, it's true! That man hates clothes, but he decided if he was gonna wear them, they needed to at least have style. So, wait, what was your point again?"

"Um… I just don't know what to do about it… like… I feel bad looking away, and he looks really nice, but I don't want to be rude an-"

"Holy Asgore, Kid!"

"What?" Clara shrilled back, startled at the reaction.

"Do you like Grillby?" The words echoed in her head, feeling her throat tighten.

"I- no! Undyne, that's not right…"

"Why not? Humans and monster date all the time now."

"H-He's like 2,700 or something…"

"Actually, he's 2,535. I have his record up now."

"You- what?"

"Yep! 6'8", 287 lbs., 2,535 years old, former army general, former police officer, current bar owner." She had his record? He is rather tall, but 287 lbs.?

"Are you sure about the weight? He has no fat on him at all." She had a touch of jealously saying that.

"Uh, yeah! That guy is ripped, kid! Muscle weights more than fat, so it makes sense." This was a revelation to her. Maybe she should stop working out… "And he runs that bar alone, inside and out. Those boxes of bottles are pretty heavy too! Ha ha, that's why Schnyder had a crush on the guy! Awesome in a suit, ripped, and a true gentleman! You're not the first kid."_ 'Not the first?' _

"So, he married?"

"Far from it, the guy's a lifelong bachelor, and well known for it too." Something in Clara twisted, but she wasn't sure what. "Still there, punk?"

"Yeah, just… thinking…"

"Do you actually like him?"

"… I shouldn't…"

"What?" The fish woman screeched. "Why not, he's an awesome, guy! You deserve someone like him!"

"But isn't it wrong to be with someone so soon?" That is, if she even wanted to be with him… A deep sigh brushed the phone.

"Kid… what you went through wasn't love. As long as you're not using Grillbz, there's nothing wrong with it. And kid…"

"Mm?"

"I've never seen Grillbz look at anyone the way he does with you. But keep in mind, he might not like you back. He might see you as a kid he never had, or a really cool roommate or something. Just don't get too carried away with your feelings yet, okay?" There was something about Undyne that eased Clara. She had time to think, time to analyze, and opportunities.

"Thanks, Undyne, really."

"Anytime, punk!" Ending the call, Clara got up to head back inside, her nose starting to run from the cold. She felt a small hint of self-confidence. Coming in, she saw the men sitting close together on the couch, whispering to each other, stopping as soon as they saw her come back in. Gaster's mouth was in a thin line, and Grillby was messing with his hands, staring into his lap.

"I-I'm gonna call it a night…" Grillby got up, walking a wide path around Clara as he passed, before anyone could get a 'good night' in. Gaster looked to her, a little panicked.

"Eh… G-Guess I'll head home the-" Clara crossed her arms, suddenly feeling like she had a backbone.

"What was that?" Gaster stopped, hand halfway reaching for his bag and Clara's clothes. He looked like a child caught in the act of disobeying their mother.

"What was… what?"

"_That_, what you guys were just doing, or talking, or…"

"It was nothing, just a bunch of old people talk, nothi-"

"I'm not stupid, Gaster. Why can't you tell me?" The scientist felt cornered.

"I-I… Gr-Grillbz was just… U-uh… It's late, I need to go!" Clara had to back against the front door to stop him. She was reminded of just how he towered over her, but his child-like look of guilt only spurred her on.

"Why can't you tell me! I'm done with people hiding things from me, you said you wouldn't be like _him_." To be compared to Kyle stung Gaster.

"This is different, it's not my place to say…"

"Then it's Grillby's?"

"_Shit_!" He whispered. Clara stepped around him, but Gaster made no move to leave. "C-Clara, that's not a good idea! Wait!" She ignored him as she made her way to Grillby's room, knocking on the door before crossing her arms.

"One second…" He sounded… dejected? Opening the door, he was wearing a simple purple robe, holding it closed with no sash. "C-Clara!" He hid behind the door, only his head showing. "W-What's up?" She just scowled at him as Gaster stood off in the corner, guilty. "What did you say?" He opened the door now. "Gaster, what did you say?"

"I didn't say anything, I swear… She thinks we're hiding something from her…" Grillby looked back to Clara, holding his robe closed a little tighter.

"What were you talking about?" She insisted. Grillby looked nervous, almost shy.

"It's private, Clara, it's not important…" She wasn't buying it, but looked down, huffing.

"Fine. Sorry." She should have known her place. She always messes everything up when she talks. She knew better. _When will you learn to shut _up_?_ Kyle's words burrowed into her.

"N-No, Clara, come back!" Stopping, Clara hadn't realized she was slinking back to her room. "I… Um…" He looked to Gaster, helplessly. The doctor shrugged. That seemed to be his only response as of late. "C-Can we talk? Please?" She got what she wanted, but felt regret. She didn't want this anymore. She really wasn't up for another 'talk.' Wasn't Gaster's talk enough for one day? First the paranoia, shopping, going to Undyne, Gaster's lecture, having to eat, calling Undyne, now this? She just wanted to sleep. She wanted to sleep and not wake up. The sooner this was done, the sooner she could sleep. And pretend she wouldn't wa-

"Uh… um…" Not wake up…? _I don't… why am I thinking about that…_ "I think I need a minute…" _I only thought about that when…_ But instead of walking away, she walked past Grillby and into his room. Again, Gaster shrugged, this time confused. The elemental went inside and closed the door. Clara was sitting on the floor against his bed. Grillby went and joined her, being careful to kneel first and to sit on his legs so she wouldn't have to see more than either one of them would have liked. Maybe he should ask her to leave so her could be a bit more… decent? He did offend her with just his shirt off before. But something was wrong.

"You okay?" Silence met a slow nod.

"I just… my brain went dark for a second. I'm fine now." He knew that darkness too.

"Is it gone?"

"Yeah…" He contemplated a moment.

"I-I can put something better on if you're uncomfortable." He stammered.

"No, it's fine, I'm not actually a prude, it just… caught me off guard."

"Oh, that's a relief!" He sighed. She looked to him. "I thought I offended you or something! That's what we were talking about. What were you doing outside, by the way?" Clara shrunk a little, not catching onto his half-lie.

"U-Uh, I wanted to call Undyne. Just… stuff."

"Come on, Clara, that's not fair. I told you what I was talking about." _Sort of_. Clara looked like she was holding her breath, her face slowly turning red.

"It wasn't even anything in particular, just… when you caught me off guard, I felt like I had to talk about it. That's it…" This told him nothing. 'Talk' about it?

"What'd she say?"

"N-Nothing! S-Said it was a habit or something…" Clara noticed Grillby's toes curl a little.

"Sh-She ment- oh, I'm gonna have some choice words with that woman…"

"Why, was she lying?"

"U-Uh… well what'd she say about it?"

"That… you, uh… don't make me say it…" His soul skipped a second. "That you don't like clothes unless their fancy or… nothing at all…" She wasn't even looking anywhere near him now.

"Well, yeah… That's… not wrong…" Clothes seemed like a really good idea at the moment, though.

"Sorry if me being here is annoying…" True, he couldn't exactly walk around in nothing anymore, but he didn't mind.

"It's not annoying, not at all! There's nothing that you do that's annoying." She looked to him with brows drawn to concern. He bit his lip, not caring about how raw it was. Her eyes looked to his bare knees. Seeing where she did, he couldn't help stop the flames there from jumping, making her flinch a little. "S-See, that's what I meant when I said communicating!" _Yes, red herrings to the rescue!_ "T-The way our flames act are ways of talking, like a dog's tail and ears." She seemed interested now, looking at his legs.

"Like what? What's something you could say?" _Say something? _

"Oh geez, I haven't done that in centuries!" A little excited to try it again, he also felt a little shy. "Um… o-our legs don't tell much though…" With a single nod, Clara silently told him 'go on.' Sighing, he got up, holding the skirt of the robe down as he went to his dresser, pulling out a belt and cinched it around the robe. He pulled his arms out from the robe, letting his torso be exposed. Clara stood too, looking around to see him from across the bed._ Oh… I guess Undyne was right…_ Getting a good look at him now, he really was jacked! He looked like one of those Victorian boxing men. His muscles were plentiful, but he still had a medium frame that graded down towards his waist. He never felt that muscular when he held her, though. It was interesting to her.

Grillby noticed her look, her mouth slightly opened, but decided to ignore them. It was always strange to him how much humans were infatuated with his body. Holding his arms out a little, he changed the flames on his body. They sparked and swirled in patterns, occasionally a hint of blue at the ends of them. They trailed up and wisped off his shoulders, playing against his neck. It felt good to him, feeling natural and real. He stopped and looked back at her after a moment or two, still the same staring look.

"S-So?" He was a little hesitant. Was she even paying attention?

"It's… I get it, but what did you say?" He walked up to her so each of them were on opposite sides of the bed.

"It's less of words, and more of the feelings it gives. What'd you think I said?" He crossed his arms a little, suddenly wanting to not be looked at. She contemplated a moment.

"It was… smooth… gentle… good intentioned." He nodded.

"True, and that's all correct, but not specific."

"You're happy?"

"About?" He pat the bed in front of her. Seeing this as permission, she sat on his bed on her knees, looking to his chest in thought.

"… I don't know…" He laughed a little and sat in front of her on the opposite side.

"I would have been surprised if you did. Only elementals can understand it, typically. Especially not humans. I was content… happy, yes. I was thinking about the sunset…" He had more to add on, but left it there. Clara reached forward and placed her hand into the small wisps that danced off his shoulder. Much like the rest of him, he was a step above pleasantly warm, but not hot.

"Have you ever burned anyone?" The elemental was taken aback for a moment, before answering, detached.

"I'd imagine if I had left the nest younger, I would have, but I was old enough to control it by then." He had avoided the question.

"So you could, if you wanted to?"

"I would never do that now. I know how dangerous my element can be."

"Now?" He hadn't meant to let that slip…

"I… Elementals were useful in the war… Humans are… awfully flammable…" He took her hand away, not looking at her. He didn't want to imagine her on fire, her skin melting away like theirs did, how her-

"But there is no more war…" This made him nod.

"No, not anymore…" She grabbed his hand, trying to keep his focus on the now. "But I would never do that again. I could never take another life like that." She stroked his knuckles with her thumb. Clara saw how his breathing heaved a little.

"Can you do it again? The talking thing?" A little off guard, Grillby looked at her.

"Again? If you would like to?" She confirmed, wanting to cheer him up a little, seeing as how it worked before. Again, he stood, arms out. This was different. His flames were angled and sharp, accented with bits of red and spurts. After only a second or two, he opened his eyes suddenly, and stepped back. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I was just- I was thinking about it and it just…" He looked at his hands, turning them over again and again, expecting something.

"You were angry… vengeful… You hated what they did… You needed them back…" Grillby stepped back again.

"… How did you… No, no one can read them, that's impossible!" He stepped into the dresser, a little panicked now.

"Grillby? What are you talking about?" Clara got up, cautiously walking up to him. "I know you watched them die, you fell, and you survived, only you."

"Stop… I didn't… I didn't want to live…"

"But you did. And you failed them. Now your people are dying. You let everyone be dragged undergrou-"

"I didn't! Shut up!" He started clawing at his head.

"Stop, don't do that!" Clara tried to grab his hands, to stop him from hurting himself. "Grillby!" She yelled out, frantic and pained. In a second, he stopped, slowly looking up at Clara through sporadic breaths. When did he get on the floor? "Grillby?" Clara held the back of his neck, focusing him on her. "What… what happened?"

"What did you say before?"

"Before? I said that you look scared… You were saying things like you were talking to someone else…" Another panic attack… A bad one, at that… He hadn't hallucinated that badly in decades…

"I… I think I need to lie down…" But he didn't move, just staring at Clara. "I don't… uh… that usually never happens… I'm sorry you had to see that…" Using the dresser, he stood up slowly, shuffling his feet over to his nightstand closest to the closet. Pulling out one of the prescription bottles, he dry-swallowed two of the pills before sitting on the bed. Clara came over and saw the bottle said 'Risperidone.' She's come across it in her studies. It was an anti-psychosis drug. A strong sense of protection came over her, like she needed to help a child in need… "I'd prefer…" He put the bottle away, closing the drawer. "… if you didn't tell Gaster about this…" Clara mulled this over.

"Only if he wasn't the one who gave you that…" He shut his eyes a second, confirming that he had given the general that medication.

"I'll tell him, just… stay away from this, okay." He had gestured to the drawer. "Not that I don't trust you… just… it's a security thing with me. Makes me feel like if I know everything I need is there, I don't need to think about where it is." Reaching into his pocket, he dropped the two vape pens into the drawer and closed it again. Clara knew what he meant, having her own system about things. She sat next to him, taking his hand in hers. "Thank you for helping me. And… it means a lot that… you didn't run…" The woman looked strangely at him.

"I would never run… not when you needed help." This touched Grillby, causing his soul to twitch. Many had run, back when he had his episodes more frequently. He never got violent, but most people did not take the chance. Grillby resorted to self-isolation after that for a while. "You've done so much for me. What kind of a person would I be if I ran from you, when you literally ran after me?"

"That was different, I had to keep you safe, I couldn't lose you…"

"And I had to keep you safe too." She held his hand a little tighter, remembering how he had tried to claw at himself. "If you're here for me… then I'm not leaving when you need me…"

"Thank you, Clara." He whispered, holding her hand back. Suddenly, he felt the sting on his scalp from his episode. Running a hand over the pain, he was glad to see there were no streaks on it, but doing so still stung. "I think I'm gonna call it a night." Clara nodded in agreement, and got up to let him get settled. Swinging his legs up on the bed, Clara suddenly let out a high-pitched shriek and covered her eyes. "What, what's wrong?" Grillby shot back up, holding her shoulders. He didn't hit her, what happened?

"U-Uh… T-the robe…" _Oh… shit…_ He forgot he was wearing nothing but a flimsy robe.

"Oh m- Clara, I am so sorry! I swear, I didn't mean to- I completely forgot, I'm so sorr-"

"I-It's okay, I'll just… g-go and… uh… g-good night!" Spinning around, she tried to leave with her eyes covered.

"Watch the d-! Door…" Clara had speed-walked right into the door frame, now holding her forehead. He couldn't help a small smile. "Ugh, come here, you. Let me see…" She moved her hands, but there was nothing but a small bump forming. _Thank goodness_. She kept her eyes closed, most likely not risking another look. "You silly thing, what'd you do that for, I was behind you." He smoothed his thumb over her cheeks, coaxing her to open her eyes. "At least you're okay." She didn't say anything, but just kept looking right at him. He tilted his head a little when she didn't answer back. "Right?" Stirred from herself, she looked to the side.

"Y-Yeah…"

"I'm sorry, guess I really did make you run away, huh?" Grillby teased, trying to get a smile out of her, but she just turned red, eyes trying to keep calm.

"Y-Yeah, heh…" They just stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. _Great job, Grillbert… Like she wasn't traumatized enough already…_

_ Just leave, why are you still here, he said he wanted to sleep. It was an accident, so stop thinking about it… _

_ Should I apologize again? She looks worried… _

"Come on." Grillby was the first to speak, slipping the robe back over his arms. With Clara behind him, they walked into the kitchen. "I always have this on hand." Clara was confused when he pulled out a pint of ice cream from the freezer. "What? I may be fire, but ice cream is ice cream, right?" She had to give him that. Grillby sat next to her at the nook, handing her one of the two spoons he had. They both needed a little bit of a treat after the massive day they had had. Clara was glad to see it was a flavor she liked, strawberry banana.

It wasn't until she was on her third spoon that Grillby noticed something. She was eating ice cream, a fatty, sugary food. Keeping to himself, but immensely proud, he smiled at her.

"What?"

"Mm, nothing." He went back to eating with her. Half the pint later, they both had had their fill, returning it to the freezer. Yawning as he stretched, Grillby noticed that Gaster had left. Not for nothing, if he had been there, he would have heard Grillby's panic attack and come in. "We should probably sleep. You've got a new friend tomorrow, and I wanna see about opening up the bar." Infected, Clara yawned too, walking up to him beside the nook into a hug.

Returning the hug, he was amused at how small she was, only coming halfway up his torso. Even by monster standards, he was pretty huge. But Clara didn't mind, and often welcomed the hugs that swallowed her; even Gaster's, as stiff and cumbersome his were. Only a moment after she hugged him, Grillby felt odd before realizing what it was. Jumping behind the nook, he pressed his body against the face of it.

"Eh, b-better get some sleep, huh?" He only had this shitty robe, if he moved… Looking forlorn, Clara stood there a moment. Grillby's smile got more forced by the minute. _Please just leave, please just leave. Damn it, you couldn't have waited two minutes?_ Scolding himself, he scoured his brain for an excuse. "I-I have a menu idea I wanna write down." Still pressed against the nook, he slid over to a drawer with a pad and pen, pulling it out and started writing last season's menu's items on it. Clara raised one eyebrow. Does he seriously think she's falling for this? No, no he didn't. _For the love of the stars, have mercy on me…_ He was running out of things to write… _She's doing this on purpose isn't she? I deserve this for before anyway… Damn it, I don't care, this is punishment enough!_ He begged the blush from cropping onto his face, but to no avail. If he had his phone, he could fake a phone call, but to get to the land line, he'd have to turn around. _Not happening… She's not leavin- no, don't sit down! _

Clara looked over the nook to the paper he had. Leaning forward more, he tried to get more counter between him and… himself. She wasn't stupid, she knew what was wrong. In truth, she did want to leave, the palpable embarrassment so thick you could nearly suffocate on it, but she decided to play a little game. After all, she already saw 'him,' so what was the harm? His hand began to shake, and if he could sweat, he would be.

"Isn't that out of season?" She pointed to the clearly winter menu, her tone a little smug. He saw her little game.

"Clara, I know what you're doing, but please, for the love of Asgore…" She innocently shrugged. Grumbling, he reached as far as he could for a kitchen towel. Held it in front of 'himself' and turned his back, crab walking away to his room. Clara was in stitches laughing. "It's not funny!" He nearly slammed the door. At least she wasn't appalled. _This is what I get for being a bachelor…_

**Author's Notes: Longest. Chapter. EVER!**

** And so we have begun! This is probably the most jam-packed, information based chapter for a long while, if not for the rest of the story. You'll be seeing a lot more Gaster, now, and a LOT more plot! **

** The Ana voice is very much a real thing, and is quite common. NOTE: THIS IS NOT A VERSION OF CHARA! This is a genuine recreation of what the voice would be like. (Still kicking myself over naming her Clara... how did I not see that...?) Gaster and Grillby are kinda going in a Bad Cop/Good Cop kind of role. **

** New character next chapter! Plus magic and minor feels! **

** Stay Safe, Lovelies! **


	10. Chapter 10: Choices

Chapter 10: Choices

While attempting to eat the breakfast that Grillby had laid out for her, the doorbell chimed.

"Na-ah-ah!" The cook scolded her as she tried to go open the door. "Eat." Begrudgingly, she sat back down, picking at the bits of potato with her fork. As expected, and on time, Gaster greeted the elemental before stepping inside.

"Good morning, Clara." His kindness was brushed off as she glared at the plate. Grillby went to stand across from her and began portioning her plate to what he wanted her to eat.

"It's been a rough morning." He explained, exhaustion from the situation coating his voice with a slight crackle. Gaster could see Clara's throat tighten as Grillby pushed the plate back in front of her. It was hard enough to get her out of bed, her mental state protesting greatly, but now she refused to eat. It was more trouble on Clara's end than Grillby's. "Clara, _please_ eat _something_…" She all but smacked the fork down and started collecting her things to go with her possible boss. "You need your medication, ple-"

"It doesn't do anything, it doesn't help!" She shouted from her closet, grabbing her coat. Gaster knew this was a lost cause, sneaking next to the distraught man.

"She's going to have days like these, you can't blame her."

"I know…" Grillby fidgeted with the fake pill in his hand.

"Here…" Reaching into the fridge, Gaster tucked two of the many containers of leftovers into his bag. "I'll do what I can to get her to eat something before she comes back." Grillby only solemnly nodded as he put the pill back into its bottle. Clara marched out of her room, right past the men, and out the front door without a single word, which only caused Grillby to groan into his hands. "Take it easy, my friend."

Giving him a reassuring smile, Gaster left as well, seeing Clara looking rather crossed in the front passenger seat. For a moment, he wondered whether or not it was a good idea for her to have her car back. She could easily run away, and they would have no idea where she would be. Calm and composed, the scientist slipped into the driver's seat. "Did you take your pain medication." As they backed out the driveway, Clara spotted Grillby watching through the door. She really was being a bit of an asshole… She nodded.

Reaching the labs in silence, they got out and went into the facility. Being fully conscious this time around, Clara was amazed by everything, not that she'd tell Gaster that. He led her up the balcony, down the hall, and back into his office, same as it was before.

"You can put your coat and all here for now. Alphys won't be in for another hour." Humming in response, Clara sat on the couch. "… You seem distracted." He commented, unpacking a few things from his bag onto his desk. "I thought you were excited to meet Alphys."

"I am, just a little…" She fidgeted with her hands.

"Shy?" He offered, sitting at his desk. Clara nodded. "She's a complete sweetheart, could never hurt anyone. Anything she does, even in her work, she does to try to help others. Trust me, she's just as shy as you, if not more. Oh, by the way…" Reaching into his bag again, he pulled out one of the leftover containers. "… at some point, you're going to eat something, no arguments." Putting one onto his desk and opening it, he started popping Grillby's potato bites as though they were candy. He tended to forget to eat between work, family, Clara and Grillby, and not to mention forgetting to sleep. The occasionally packed meal from his lifelong friend were like heaven to him. Clara refused to look at the container, pulling out her phone to pass the time.

After about an hour and a half, a tiny knock came from the door. At first, neither one of them even thought it was a knock with how quiet it was. Gaster opened the door from his computer.

"Good morning, Alphys." He muffled through bites.

"G-Good morning, D-Doctor G-Gaster…" Clara was surprised at how shy she seemed. Her yellow lizard head was bowed down, looking away, her feet piled onto one another with her powerful tail wrapped around them. "O-Oh! You must b-be Cl-Clara! U-Undyne said y-you t-t-talked to her b-before." She didn't walk in, offered a handshake, and barely looked at her. Gaster plucked a folder from somewhere amidst the piles of papers and stood to give it to Alphys.

"No need to be shy, Alphys." He went on to explain in a gentle voice some kind of project he wanted her to do. "…and I'm sure Clara could help you while you two chat." Both of the women's heads shot up now, Exclaiming in unison.

"What?"

"B-But, D-D-Doctor G-Gaster she-she doesn't know how we o-operate, a-and…"

"Yeah, I'm not even sure if I- I mean…" Gaster plopped back into his chair, his voice suddenly back to its professional air.

"Enough, please. You are both professional enough to handle a simple survey analysis, I'm sure. Clara, you are to return here after you and Alphys are done talking." The change seemed to strike in Clara. Why was she here, she didn't want to be with someone like this again? What if Gaster is actually like him too? What if he was being nice this whole time just to get her to listen to him? "Clara, is that understood?" He was not rude about it, just stern. It felt as though icy finger nails scraped along the inside of her chest.

"Y-Yes… Doctor Gaster…" She could barely bring her voice above a whisper. Seeing her small relapse, he wheeled his chair over and smoothed his arms over hers.

"I'm sorry if the way I speak scares you. It's just how I get into the mindset of working, I promise." His voice was gentle again, showing he had full control. "Go on now, have fun." Wheeling back, he offered a sympathetic grin. She walked over to Alphys, glancing back to the head doctor in slight worry. But his back was turned. He did not see her worry, her slight fear.

"S-So this is my l-lab…" Alphys had brought you to the opposite side of the building on the main floor. The room was rather large, tiled and white like the rest of the facility. Several tables and a large desk were crammed with everything imaginable: vials, beakers, books and papers, tools, surgical instruments… That last one Clara had to force herself to ignore. She knew Gaster was both a scientific and medical doctor, but was Alphys? They walked up to the desk, as the lizard frantically tried to throw away empty cups of instant noodles. Clara felt her stomach twist just looking at them, her old dietary habit resurfacing. "S-Sorry about the m-mess!" Scooping some books off of another chair, she offered it to Clara. "S-So Undyne mentioned y-you wanted to t-talk about s-something?" Clara nodded.

"Um… well, Undyne kinda just offered for me to be your friend, which was a little weird."

"Y-Yeah, she can be a b-bit… f-forward." Her scales got a pink shade to them, thinking about her aquatic partner.

"But I was also wondering… is Gaster… nice to work for?"

"O-Oh yes! H-He's super nice a-and he understand a l-lot about, like, personal s-stuff. L-Like h-he gets that I c-can't really d-do things that require a l-lot of the social stuff that he does, s-so I do a bunch of t-tests and analyses!" The meek lizards had perked up now, enthralled in her love for her job. "W-What does Dr. G-Gaster want you to d-do, if you don't m-mind me asking?" Clara pondered a minute, realizing that she doesn't have a single clue.

"I… don't know, actually. I was just wondering if it was really hard or really depreciating to work here."

"Oh, n-no, no, it's w-wonderful! Everyone l-looks out f-for each other a-and a lot of us have f-friends who we meet with o-outside of work. Doctor G-Gaster a-also like to take someone o-once in a while t-to Grillby's b-bar!" Clara nodded, knowingly, explaining how she has before. "R-Really? W-Wow, he must really l-like you! U-Usually he waits a w-while before doing t-that because of a t-trainee thing." How did Alphys not know? Surely the entire lab had to have known by now. A student disrespecting Doctor W.D. Gaster, only to be found to be drugged and brought to his personal study? "A-Are you the o-one who's been making Doctor G-Gaster leave on t-time lately?"

"What do you mean?"

"H-He rarely leaves the l-labs unless it's f-for his sons or to see G-Grillby. A-Apparently he just sleeps on that c-couch and eats junk f-food." Her voice dropped as she guiltily looked at the candy currently on her desk. Having worked with him for several years now, she has passed on a few bad tendencies to him, junk food being one. "D-Do you want one?" She picked up the bag of gummy fish, offering it out to her.

"U-Uh… S-Sure…" _It's be rude to say no, especially to someone I just met and might have to work with._ Clara tried her best to pluck one of the candies from the bag and stuck it in her mouth without her hand shaking. Happy to see another lover of gummy fish, Alphys tossed one into her mouth as well as she started going over the folder Gaster had given her.

The gummy squished and stuck in Clara's mouth, the slime from refusing to swallow it seeping down the back of her throat. Her nose perked to one side as she fought to continue chewing it. The sounds it made, the horrible feel of it, the way her stomach curdled in desire for any sort of nutrition.

The garbage can was on the other side of Alphys, there was no way to discreetly spit it into her hand and throw it away. Keeping the fatty food in her mouth was making her nauseous, the idea of how much it'd impede on her progress nearly make her tear up. If she ate it, maybe she could ignore it ever happened. Regardless of how tight her throat was, Clara forced the mushed gummy to slink down. Almost immediately, she regretted it.

_ No, why did I do that, it wouldn't have been rude to say 'no,' I can't- I- it was candy, of all things! You fucking idiot, are you stupid? Sugar is like a drug, you get addicted! You fought so long to not need it, and now you're going to bring us back to being a fat, disgusting slob? _

"D-Do you know how to use the survey p-program on the computer?" Alphys was oblivious to the absolute turmoil Clara was in, clicking and typing at her computer. Humming a 'no' was all Clara could do. Just the idea of opening her mouth felt like she would absorb calories just from the air. Nothing else could go into her mouth. Nothing. "N-Not sure why Gaster thought y-you'd be able to help, then. N-No offense!" Clara shrugged indifferently. "Hmm… Wanna t-talk about anyt-thing else?" Dropping the report, she looked to Clara. Finding the will, the anorexic spoke.

"N-Not really, that was about it."

"O-Okay. H-Hey, do you like a-anime?" Her eyes widened at the proposition of a shared hobby.

"Haven't really watched any ones that aren't kid shows brought here." Clara shrugged, feeling an overwhelming feeling to just grab that trash can and run.

"Oh, okay! W-Well, t-think about what k-kinds of shows you l-like and I'll c-come up with some o-ones you might like!" Bonding sounded great… with no food. "I-I should get working on this t-though, D-Doctor Gaster wants i-it by t-two." She picked up the folder again.

"I-I'm not much help, so I think I'll just see if G-Gaster has anything for me…" Clara got up, backing away.

"O-Okay, I'll see you later, C-Clara! I-It was great meeting you!" With a wave back to Alphys, Clara walked out.

Another knock was at Gaster's door.

"Damn it, every time I'm in the middle of the main concept…" he mumbled to himself, flicking his pen around his hand. "Yes?" The door opened, and there again, was the stout lizard.

"S-Sorry to dist-turb you, D-Doctor Gaster. I just h-have a question a-about this." Gaster got up and went over some of the data and values of the survey she was given.

"By the way, where is Clara? Still at your lab?" Looking up, Alphys cocked her head a little.

"N-No, she s-said she was c-coming back here."

"How long ago?" Glancing at her phone, which had several chibi anime charms dangling from it, Alphys went through her texts as a sort of time management system.

"I'd say about half and hour to forty-five min-"

"_What_?" Gaster flew back to his computer, quickly bringing up the lab's security logs. "Can you give me an exact time she left?"

"O-Oh, y-yes, um… lets see h-here… A-About 10:13."

"Okay… got it…" Sure enough, Gaster found the exact point where Clara left Alphys's office, speed walking off camera. The scientist switched cameras as she went past them. Down the hall, to the lobby (but not outside, Gaster noted), up the stairs, and back towards his office. Another camera change, and Clara is seen going into the women's bathroom on the way to his office. "… Okay…" He waited… He sped up the video till… It's live. Clara never left that bathroom. "Alphys…" His voice was deep, dark, and articulated.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Did you… give her any food?" Standing, he leaned against the desk.

"W-Well, I-I o-offered her a p-piece of c-candy…" Her stutter intensified as she grew more skittish around her superior. He very rarely spoke like this. Gaster did not respond. He only stared intently at the screen, the unscarred brow drawn deep over his eye socket. "S-Should I-I go g-get her, D-Do-"

"Yes." Tail between her legs, Alphys quiet literally ran out of the room and down the hall. Gaster watched as she came into view on screen, gingerly opening the door before disappearing inside. It was no more than half a minute before she returned, Clara right behind her. Everything seemed alright. Calmly, they walked from one camera to the next till they were back in his office, door having been left open.

"H-Here she i-is…" Alphys held Clara in front of her, as though she would shield her from the possible lecture she was about to be given for… something. Gaster stood up, huffing his shoulders down, before speaking as thought nothing had happened towards the window.

"Thank you… Alphys. Could you give us some privacy, please?" Without another word, there was a yellow streak that flew down the hall. Gaster noted that he will have to apologize to her later, closing the door from his computer and turning to lean his hip against the desk. "Clara… where were you?" He sounded resigned, but calm, glancing at her before staring at his finely polished shoes. Her eyes had dark rings now, and the lines going from the sides of her nose to her mouth seemed deeper.

"The… bathroom. I wasn't feeling good because of my… injury…" This was not entirely wrong, she was in a bit of pain from speed walking down the hall like that. "Sorry, I should have told you." Gaster turned to face her now.

"I don't care about you telling me where you are. I care about what you were doing." She did not see the difference, and her face said so. "Alphys gave you candy, and you decided t-"

"N-No, that's not what I wa-"

"Then _what_, Clara?" The usually calm doctor shouted, patience gone. "You are 79 pounds, and you expect me to think that you did nothing? … Sit." A little rougher than he intended, Gaster led her to the couch. "Do you have_ any idea_ how serious this is? I can't even trust you to walk across a building anymore, Clara. You're leaving me with very few choices here." Sighing, he slumped into his chair, sounding defeated. "I… Do you want to be here? Hospitalized? It's fine if you do, really, but…" He rubbed his mouth in thought. What more could he do? He had a medical policy that could not be bent. He held his head in his hand. "You're lying, going behind my back, refusing to eat, vomiting when you do, severely underweight…"

"Please don't make me…" There was a squeaking voice from the couch, one that nearly cracked Gaster's soul. He's heard that so many times. She did not admit to it, but clearly gave up on her excuse.

"If I have to, I have to. It's not my decision, I must follow the policy that has been set by the medical associations." He could not bear to look at her, how tears streaked down freely without a sound. "But, as of right now, it is not set in stone…" Clara looked up, a shred of hope blooming. "If… _If_ your blood work comes back well enough…" He pondered over his deal. "And you can eat a meal that I set out for you, without purging for one hour, then I will make arrangements so that you do not have to be here."

"Yes!" The frail woman nearly shouted, sticking her hand out. Through his distraught state, he chuckled at the offer.

"I've never understood why humans are so fond of handshakes." But he accepted. "Is your word not good enough? It is not like a contract that has a permanent signature on it." Turning to his desk, he called for blood sample equipment to be brought on up before sighing again. "You're walking on paper thin ice, Clara… I don't think you realize how far down you've gone… and that scares me."

"Scares you?" Why would he be scared? It's not like his freedom and body were on the line.

"We fought so hard to get you away from him, to get you into a good home where you feel safe, with the support you needed to heal… and you turn away. I saw what you were like, Clara, when you finally felt free. You were so happy! You danced with Grillby, for the first few days, you ate willingly, you nearly ate the entire sandwich at Grillby's…" He was less of talking to her, and more of mulling over where he went wrong, where he missed the signs… and there were none.

"You've been doing this for years, haven't you?" He asked, forlorn. Clara's silence was confirmation enough. Another knock, the door opened, and that same cart was pushed in, and parked next to Clara. She started to resent that thing. Gaster wheeled himself over, remorsefully going over the cart, unwrapping and assembling. "Why is it… that this always ends up happening when you're here?" Clara didn't answer, but instead lied on her side, splaying out her arm.

She had that look, the same look the child that fell so many years ago had. Resigned to their fate, blank and lifeless eyes staring at some far-off hope that they were watching die before them. And he was stuck in the same position of having to administer the pain, giving treatment that they saw as torture.

"I… really am sorry, Clara…" He couldn't do it, not with her like this. He had been a doctor for many centuries, and that same look always bore into him, always eliciting the same reaction out of him. He couldn't help it as a few tears dripped down his bone. He couldn't help that they fell onto her wrist before he could move away. He just couldn't. The drop brought Clara to what was going on, confused to the water on her. Looking up, she was instantly upright, trying to think of something to say to the monster. His eyes were screwed shut, brow shaking. What could she say? Reaching forward, she wrapped her wire-like arms around him. "I'm so sorry!" He whimpered, holding her against him. "I can't believe he did this to you…"

_ He did this? Did he do this?_ Clara always thought this was something that she chose, but looking back, there were so many red flags. Limiting her money, the insults, needing permission to eat in public, no sugary foods… He stopped her from eating sugar, not her. He was always roughly pinching at her stomach, sneering when she showed it. _Did he? Am I still doing this because of him?_ She suddenly felt disgusted. Pulling out of the hug, she leaned against the couch in thought with a hiss.

"Fuck him…" Something sparked in her features, one that Gaster learned to recognize as a passionate anger. A hopeful, and slightly amused, smile spread onto Gaster's face.

"That's an understatement. May I?" Clara put her arm into his open hand on the armrest. Going about the routine, he disinfected, stuck, drew from, and removed the equipment. He gently rubbed his thumb over the cotton that he put over her vein. "You've been through too much… Still want to do the deal?" Clara nodded, feeling a bit more confident. Perhaps not about 'winning' the deal, but just in general. She had Gaster and Grillby. No matter where she was, _he_ was not going to be there. "Okay."

Leaning forward, Gaster placed a kiss on her forehead, just like back in her bathroom, before he rolled back to his desk. Dialing two more numbers, he called for a lab test of the blood, and for 'dietary needs 4T.' The same person came and collected the cart and sample, and only ten minutes later, someone came in with a tray with a lid over it. Gaster placed it on a work table with wheels in front of Clara.

"Now, Clara… I'm going to portion this for you. You must eat every bite. No scraping anything off, no blotting anything. Eat it as it is. You can move it around, break it apart. As long as you eat every part of what I give you, okay?" With a nod, Gaster uncovered the tray. There was a de-boned chicken leg half the size of a fits, half a cup of mashed potatoes, and half a cup of carrots. The sheen on the chicken did not please Clara by any means. Even just the smell screamed of fat. Gaster went to work portioning half the potatoes, three quarters of the carrots, and the entire chicken leg. "You have one hour to eat just this. It's not a lot, and is actually what we make our other patients like you eat." He said, gesturing to the portion. "Your hour starts now." With that, he turned back to the computer to start a new document.

Clara truly tried her best, going for the carrots first, followed by the potatoes. Gaster peeked around about forty minutes in, and the chicken sat untouched. "All of it, Clara. If you cannot, that is entirely fine. Do not force yourself if you will get sick because of it." Her stomach was already feeling sick, and Gaster could tell. She was shifting in her seat constantly, and he could actually hear her stomach trying to comprehend food again. Once in a while, he could hear her in pain from her body's protest.

Anorexia and bulimia were never a pleasant issue, and there was more physical pain involved than most people would expect. Her body was trained to not retain that much food for two years, possibly more. It would take months upon months to break this. In truth, he was surprised at how well she was doing. Only the chicken and a few scraps of potatoes left, and she stopped with fifteen minutes left.

"It's too much. I can't physically eat all that." He knew this, and turned from his computer.

"I know." He picked up the lid, but Clara suddenly covered the plate with her hands.

"No! I'm not done, I'll finish, really!" She was desperate, but determined.

"I set this up with a certain goal in mind, and you've passed it." Clara was confused.

"But… I didn't finish…"

"I know that." He smiled. "And I'm sorry to say that I've lied to you. You see, it's impossible for you to eat all of this with how much your stomach has shrunk, but you still tried. And, when you reached your limit, you admitted to it. That is what I was looking for, and you have passed." With that, he shooed her hands away and covered the plate. "Given, we still have another hour, starting now, for you to not get sick. Either way, I am still immensely proud of you." Putting the table back where it was squirrelled away in the corner, he returned to his computer. "Oh, and may I see your phone?"

"Sure, I guess… Why?" She walked over beside him at his computer and pulled it out, but waited to hand it over.

"To check the internet history. There are rather questionable websites relating to your condition, and I must check to see if you have been on them."

"I haven't been on any of those 'Ana' sites…"

"Then you will have no objection to me looking." He held his hand out to her phone, which was clutched to her chest.

"It's… my privacy, though."

"Clara, when you're hospitalized, there is no such thing as privacy. I'm just checking the websites, not what is in them. And, Clara, I really couldn't give a shit what sites you're on, as long as it isn't these pro-ana sites." Mulling over all the sites she's been on since she last wiped her history, she resigned. "Thank you." Hooking the phone to the computer, Gaster went through the phone. Clara watched, horrified to see the search history from before she wiped it. _Oh no, please don't see, please don't see…_ She didn't have any pro-ana sites, but there were some pretty embarrassing ones. Thankfully, after going through about three months of searches, he handed the phone back. "You're good…" was all he said. The mental torment of whether or not he saw some of the sites she had been on will haunt her for weeks.

"Actually, I don't think I have ever explained my work to you." Gaster said into his computer. "My current research is actually on eating disorders and their behaviors. Given, I still do other work and all, but this is the one that I was asked to take on recently by… many associations. As much as I'd prefer to be working on more intricate illnesses and diseases, they deny me… I swear half of them are racists… They want a 'cure-all' approach." He scoffed loudly. "Dumbasses… There is no such thing as a 'cure-all approach' for a behavioral issue, but they want 'guidelines' and 'systems.' About half of my patients now are in the same boat as you are, Clara." She did not really seem to care that much, though. "You should meet some of them, it could be very beneficial! I have this one patient who…" Clara zoned out, not really caring. She was not like them, and she did not want to be like them. Instead, she focused on trying to keep her stomach settled as several bouts of severe nausea waved over her. Her body creaked and moaned as it greedily decimated the food for its nutrients.

Nearly at the end of the post-meal hour, Gaster's printer went off.

"Ah, must be the blood work." He said to himself, grabbing the papers. Already with an exhausted frown, Clara couldn't tell his reaction to the results.

'Low, Low, Deficient, Low, Deficient, Deficient, Deficient, Low, Deficient…' Those same two words went on and on all across each page. The bolded, red 'Deficient' outlined half the document. There were notes on the last page as to the recommended procedure based on the results. Most of them typically said 'multivitamins,' 'more protein,' or something along those lines. This one read completely differently, and Gaster had no choice but to follow it. Glancing at the time, he figured that fifty-five minutes was close enough. _Well, two out of three…_

"Clara…" The doctor rubbed his head, running his hand down to the back of his neck. Wheeling in front of her, he lowered the chair to be more level with her, papers in hand. "Your results are… shocking, to say the least." She was not shocked at all. "You're… deficient in just over half of everything… and some are…" He had to stop a moment, swallowing his emotion. "Some could be considered critically low. But I do still believe that you have a luxury here. Unlike a vast majority of my patients, you have a choice." This caught her attention. "You are showing signs of wanting this to stop, am I correct?" She enthusiastically agreed. "And based on how much you could eat, you can still physically eat enough for it to be significant. But eating alone is not enough medically." Gaster took a moment to take a deep breath and release it. "It is not enough to get you out of the critical alone. I would like your opinion on a proposition that I have.

If you stay here," He continued. "you will be monitored at all times of the day, receive therapy from me, be watched and monitored on every meal and after, and have nasogastric sessions until you are out of critical." Clara knew what nasogastric tubes were, and they were apparently absolute torture. There was always a lingering discomfort, and having it put into place is painful as hell. "But, if you choose not to, you can go home to Grillby, he will have a strict diet that he will report to me about, many of your liberties will be limited, and you will come here to my office for therapy and nasogastric sessions every day. Being here, there are few distractions, and you can focus on getting better without interruptions, but not everyone responds this way. I need to know your opinion, your choice, on what you feel will truly help you the best."

"Is… the feeding tube really…"

"Yes… No matter how much or what you eat, it's far too dangerous to not have you be supplemented in some way. I know it's… annoying… but that is not something that can be swayed." Clara felt her stomach chill at the thought of that being inserted daily.

"Every day?"

"Yes. It will not be removed between sessions, but it will be there for at least four day-"

"Four days!" Clara shot up, nearly knocking Gaster backwards in his chair. "I can't deal with that for four days!" Gaster stood, taking her shoulders.

"Shh, calm down, calm dow-"

"Please, please don't, I'll eat anything!"

"Clara, calm… down…" Silently getting her to breath with him, he managed to get her to sit back on the couch as he held her hands. "I know it's scary and extremely unpleasant. I don't exactly like having to give people them, but it is best to not panic. The more you think about it, the worse it will be." Lunging forward, she held onto him. For a moment, he flinched away, but quickly recovered as he soothed her. "Do you know where you want to be for all this?" She thought for a moment, occasionally taking a second to ignore the world and just lean into his hug. After about two minutes, she nodded.

"I wanna be with Grillby…" She didn't really need to tell him; he knew the answer already.

**Author's Notes: I'm alive, I swear! Okay, I am so sorry about the delay on this chapter, but I have my reasons...  
That I will tell you in the next chapter... **

**For this chapter, I am rather attached to it for some reason. It is where everything comes together to form the big problem. Obviously, Clara's eating disorder. In hindsight, I should have added in more of the Ana voice during the meal, but eh. It's already written.**

**Forgive me for my horrible Alphys, I am not good at writing her... *Sees username* Wellllll... Shove a Moldsmal up my nose and call me Shirley... **

**All characters: "No..." **

**Note: What Gaster did here is NOT medically accurate! She would have been hospitalized immediately back with Williams, but with how delicate the situation was, she went to Gaster first. Being a monster who has a slight grudge against the medical associations and knowing Clara, he gave a big middle phalanx to them. The big plot hole is filled in with Gaster being a dick to racist humans! **

**Gaster: "Well, I quiet like it..."  
Grillby: "Yeah, no shit. Wouldn't that make you a racist?"**

**Gaster: "Says the war general. And only to idiotic humans who know nothing of compassion."**

**Grillby: "Need I get the knife?" **

**Gaster: ". . . I knew I should have let you die back then..."  
You two stfu before you spoil anything else about my secret project! Don't make me get Captain Sans of the S.S. Grillster in here to embarrass you two in silence!**

**Stay Safe, Lovelies! **


	11. Chapter 11: Why

Chapter 11: Why

Gaster held her a little tighter, but still as though his arms were a soothing blanket.

"Okay, that's perfectly fine. You can always change your mind, and I will always be here for you." He pulled her back and wiped some tears she had shed. "Want me to call him?" Still crying a little, Clara nodded, being placed back on the couch.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he called his old friend's cell.

"… … … Probably at work." This time, he called the bar. He only ever called there when it was important, and this sure as hell was. "… … …"

"Grillby's." Always such a warm welcome… He will know something is up the second Gaster opens his mouth.

"H-Hey… Grillbz…" Silence.

"What… happened…"

"Nothing, but… I need you to come here. It's important. I know you just reopened the bar probably an hour ago, but… Grillbert… please…" The somber tone tipped the elemental enough to know this was serious.

"Is she hurt?"

"No, no, Clara's perfectly safe. No injuries."

"Is she upset?" Each word grew longer and with a slight hiss to them.

"… Uh, hold on actually." 'Upset' was such a vague term. One could be upset but emotionally happy. From the other end, Grillby could hear a muffled conversation, probably thanks to him putting the phone to his shirt. "She says only a little. But it's you I need to talk to about her."

"How soon?"

"Soon. She needs you here for this. One second…" Grillby could not hear what had followed. Gaster turned to Clara. "Clara, dear, do you mind if I speak with Grillby in private a moment?"

"N-No, go ahead." As she went to get up, Gaster waved her back down. Closing his eyes, his hand had a dark purple aura to it, as Clara found a veil of the same color fall around the couch. It looked like airy curtains, the way it swayed. They seemed almost relaxing to watch, mesmerizing. She saw Gaster's mouth move, but there was no sound. _Sound proof magic, huh?_ She had never witnessed monster's magic in person before, and it made her curious.

"Still there, Grillbz?"

"Still here…" Gaster knew when Grillby repeated words that he was focused and concerned at the same time.

"She can't hear us right now, but… I gave her an option of being hospitalized here or being able to come back to you. She chose you. There's a lot I need to explain to you, go over with you. It's not something that should be done over a phone call." Grillby was, for once, glad that there were so few people in his establishment. He nervously tapped his fingers, followed by his foot. "Grillby, where are your pens?" He was referring to his vape pens, which were tucked in his pant pocket.

"I'm fine, Gaster, thank you… just… give me half an hour to close up." Yet another day closed. _Might as well put up a 'foreclosure' sign. _

"Don't speed, please, and remember your pens-"

"G, I appreciate it, but you're just getting me more anxious here." _'Aggravated' is more like it._

"Alright, alright. Ugh, one more second." Gaster turned to Clara. "Hey, Clara, do you want to ta-" He saw her touching the magic veil, suddenly acting like a child who was caught messing with something they weren't supposed to. Taking the magic down, he couldn't help but smirk at her bashful attempt to act like she was doing nothing. "Do you want to talk to Grillby while I have him on the phone. He is coming in a little while." She pondered a moment before shaking her head. A little surprised by this, Gaster finished up his good-bye to his friend and hung up. "So, you like magic, huh?" He couldn't resist.

"I've just… never seen it before." She folded her hands between her thighs, as though to keep herself from misbehaving.

"Of course, you have, don't be silly." She looked to him. "All monsters are pure magic, Grillby especially. How do you think he manages to keep every fire alarm from going off with every building he goes in? Real fire can't do that. I have no tendons or muscles, yet my bones do not fall apart." _Usually_, he thought.

"What else can you do?" Her enthusiasm was down right adorable. He pondered over this.

"Well, force fields like you saw, I can make shapes," He formed several shapes, all of which were really just a force field in different forms. "I can move objects…" Several purple hands, identical to his own, looked like ghosts as one came over and tucked some hair behind Clara's ear. "I can… N-Not much else…" He had one more, but she did not need to know about that. Only his eldest son knew and shared in this, and it was to stay that way.

"What about Grillby?"

"His are all fire based. You'll have to ask him about that."

"So, yours are force fields?"

"In a sense, yes." Clara thought for a while.

"What about Alphys?" Now that was an interesting question, indeed.

"Not all monsters can summon magic. Alphys cannot. My son, Papyrus, has a difficult time with his, but is very good at what he can do. His are also force fields, mainly bones."

"What about Sans?"

"Sans… he… is very fluent in his… very." Realizing he was getting distracted in his own thoughts, he shook his head to center himself. "Oh, Clara, I nearly forgot! Do you want to wait for Grillby to do the tube, or would you prefer to do it now?" She did not need to think for long responding sadly.

"Now."

"Alright. Let's go down to one of the medical rooms, this isn't the proper place." Following him back down to the main floor, they explored the section that Clara had not been in yet: the medical wing. There were rooms after rooms, most of them the same. A single patient in a bed, hooked up to something. The head doctor brought her into an empty room, sitting her on the bed.

"I'll be right back, okay? Don't. Go. Anywhere. This isn't the place to be wandering around." He spoke more for her safety as opposed to having to run around trying to find her. So, she waited, nerves slowly building up as she fidgeted. For a hospital-like wing, it was awfully quiet. Gaster returned with a tray covered with a cloth that he placed on the side table. "Okay, lean back." Still scared, Clara took her time to sit fully on the bed, leaning against the raised back of the bed. She was nearly shaking by the time Gaster had looked up from the tray, which had an assortment of plastic-sealed medical tools. "Oh, dear… And we were worried about Grillby being an anxious mess." He smiled timidly.

"S-Sorry… Is he worse?"

"He's not very good at handling this sort of field." Gaster lifted her chin, looking up at her face. "He gets anxious easily due to some procedures he has had." Oops. _So much for confidentiality…_ He thought this would be a good distraction for her though, taking the moment to prepare the tubing with medical lubricant and holding it against her before marking it.

"Like… surgeries?" Clara watched him closely.

"In a sense… Tilt your head back…" The tube went into her right nostril, going in a few inches. It was unpleasant, but not bad. "He got many injuries during the war, and back then, medical practice was… barbaric, to say the least." He handed her a paper cup with water and a straw. "Take small, continuous sips…" The tube started snaking down the back of her throat. "And he's been in some more modern medical situations, what with being in the police force for a bit." Clara nearly gagged on the water a few times, feeling the tube go down her throat felt like she was being choked. Thanks to the several biology classes in her studies, she knew the tube was not in her trachea. "Always jumping off of things too high, grazed by bullets, blunt force trauma." She felt like she was going to go insane, breathing but feeling like she couldn't at the same time. How was this shitty water supposed to help? "There's a reason he has as reputation with Williams. Those doctor-friend privileges definitely paid off on his end, that's for sure…" It continued down till it hit the pit of her stomach, stopping at the mark he had made. She wanted to vomit, but the tube made her throat constrict around it. "All done." It did not feel 'done.'

He took some medical tape and put some strips where the tube wrapped behind her ear and the base of her nose. All those people saying it was horrible were right. It burned and bothered just enough to make her want to rip it out, but Clara knew better. It'd only have to be put back in again. Four day…

She hadn't realized that her potential boss, and now doctor, was still talking, hooking the end of her tube to what looked like a beige IV drip. She went to tell him that she didn't hear that last part, but as she went to talk, she felt the tube move with her throat. She suddenly didn't want to talk at all, didn't want to breath, didn't want to move. Her head was still tilted back, and it was going to stay that way, if she had any say about it.

"Hey, still with me?" The spacey look she had said otherwise, but she still responded with her eyes. _Don't move me, don't make me talk, leave me alone._ She didn't want to do anything till her throat got use to this, if it ever did. "Try to breath through your nose, Clara, it'll relax your throat." But she didn't. "I know it's… aggravating, but trust me on this. Breath through your nose." He took her hand that she didn't realize was shaking. With shaking lips, Clara slowly closed her mouth, breathing small, shallow breaths. "There you go… You're alright." He pet her hair, something she thought was going to disturb the small lull in the pain she was getting use to. Reaching over to the tray again, he offered what looked like a piece of hard candy. "Here, it'll numb your throat for now." Almost desperately, she took it, not caring about moving now as she threw it into her mouth and started sucking on it like a starving newborn. "Don't choke on it, please…" Again, he sounded exhausted as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her, one arm over her shoulders.

After the numbing agent had dissolved and did its trick, Clara looked at the feeding bag above Gaster's head.

"It'll take an hour." _Hours, hours, hours…_ "You look tired…" She was, but regardless of wanting her guardian first, Clara's eyes started to dip as she leaned her head back against his thin arm. He pulled the thin sheet up to settle at her waist.

A sharp sensation woke Gaster, causing him to stand up from the bed, but was gentle enough to not wake Clara. When did he fall asleep? Realizing it was his phone, Gaster answered it, half whispering so to not wake the rather exhausted woman.

"Hello?"

"Hey, G… I'm uh… at the lobby." The bartender sounded beside himself.

"Oh, Grillby! Y-Yes, I'll uh… no, I won't come get you. I'll have someone bring you here."

"You're not in your office?"

"No, everything is fine, I promise. Just don't freak out, please. Clara needs you right now, not the other way around." Grillby thought back to the other night and his episode. She was there for him, now he wanted to be there for her. He felt a sense of duty to Clara, something his voice upheld.

"I won't."

"Good! See you in a bit." Gaster hung up as he pressed the 'call nurse' button. It felt strange for him to press it, and felt a little guilty for it knowing how some patients abused it; but he couldn't risk leaving Clara to wake up alone with a tube down her throat. A curious nurse walked into the supposedly empty room to find her boss and a patient.

"Oh, Doctor Gaster! I'm sorry, didn't know this room was occupied, it's not in the system."

"That's alright, no need to apologize. If you could send someone to the lobby, Grillbert Flame is waiting. I do not wish to leave my patient." With an understanding nod, she left, returning a moment later with the elemental outside the door.

"Doctor Gaster, Grillbert is here."

"Thank you, dear, that is all." With that, she left as Gaster poked his head into the hall. "Stay out here for now, Grillby. I would like to wake her first." Closing the door, the scientist returned to the sleeping woman's side. "Clara, dear… Wake up now, Grillby is here for you." Stirring, she scrunched her face as she moved her head, feeling something strange. Seeing the familiar face, she remembered where she was and why. "Want me to go get him?" Braving to use her vocal chords, Clara gave a mumble as confirmation. She could not have been asleep long, her throat only just starting to regain feeling.

As the door opened, Grillby stood right there in front of it, ready to clamber in.

"Easy there, hot feet…" A common nickname for antsy fire elementals. "Just take things as they are, alright?"

"For the love of Asgore, Gaster, just let me in." Slight annoyance played in Grillby's voice. Stepping aside, Gaster paid close attention to the two of them. Grillby stopped as he walked in, not liking what he was seeing. His little turtle was hooked up to this… thing. She looked tired and sad, practically miserable. But she still managed a small grin as she saw him. If she wasn't attached to the feeding bag, she would have even attempted to get up to hug him. Gaster had to nudge his friend to get him to go to her side. "What… Clara… What happened?" Sitting on the edge in front of her, he took her hand, a little afraid he'll hurt her.

"I'm-" She cut herself off with a grimace, not use to talking yet. Gaster stepped in.

"She's fine. It's hard for her to talk right now because of the tube." Grillby never took his eyes from her. "Her blood work was horrible. This was the only option to keep her out of critical. She will go home with you, and she will come here to do this with therapy every day."

"But… why?" He looked to his old comrade, a sense of betrayal playing in his shaken voice. "Why's she critical, or almost critical, or- what happened?" The doctor knew he wouldn't understand.

"She has too little in her blood. She needs the nutrients, but no matter how much she eats, it will take too long. This is a good thing that she's getting this treatment, otherwise sh- … Otherwise, she would get hurt…" He censored himself, not only for their sakes, but his own mental reassurance. _She's getting the treatment, she won't die. She won't…_ "Excuse me a moment…" He managed to duck out of the room and shut the door just in time to stifle a small sob. Seeing her distraught superior, the same nurse approached him.

"Doctor Gaster, are you alr- Oh, Gaster…" Every nurse knew when their head doctor had to fight to keep from crying, it was serious.

"N-No, please, I just… I need a moment. I'm alright… Got a little caught up is all…" This was normal to see on occasions; anyone in this field has moments where they can only be strong for so long. Gaster tried to compose himself with a deep breath, but nearing the end, the breath broke with a single sob.

"Doctor Gaster, I think you need some air." She tried to help lead him to the window behind the nurse's station, but he refused.

"No, thank you. I still need to finish my job." With an uninterrupted breath, Gaster looked her in the eyes, signifying he was together again. "Thank you." He turned back inside the room.

Grillby was slightly cooing things to Clara, asking her yes or no questions with a voice one would have talking to a child. Gaster hadn't realized that his face was slightly flushed from his emotions, but the two stayed silent about it.

"Sorry about that. Important call. Uh, where was I?"

"You were explaining why she's on this… thing."

"Nasogastric tube. Yes, that's right. S-She will have it for about four days, no removal at all." Gaster quirked his head. "You were on one once, don't you remember?" Grillby shook his head. "Hm, I suppose that is a good thing then, considering the surgery…" He mumbled to himself and went over to the feeding bag, seeing it was nearly empty. "Shall we take this upstairs?" Grillby looked to Clara, who gave a small nod. The medical wing was far too bright and cold. She wanted Grillby's soft light and warmth.

Gaster unhooked the tubing from the feeding bag, disposing of everything and looping the end of the tube behind Clara's ear. Once the three had reached the lobby, Clara stopped at the stairs, suddenly too tired to go up them, feeling a slight pain in her lower abdomen; so, Grillby hoisted her onto his back and they soon reached the cozy office.

"So, there's a lot I need to lay out for you, Grillbz." Gaster plopped into his chair and brought up several different documents on his computer, printing each one. Grillby slouched against the couch's armrest so Clara could lie against him.

"Whatever she needs." Seeing the desire to help, Gaster handed him about thirty pages of papers. "… Uh… this is a lot of 'need.'" He wished he was joking.

"No, no, only the first three. The rest I want for you to read. It'll give you a better understanding of everything." Gaster's face turned neutral and professional, taking in a breath. "Clara has… crossed a line. She cannot be left to herself anymore. First thing you're going to do is the most important. With every meal, I laid out specific food types and amounts that she _needs_ to eat if she wants to be able to expand her stomach and stop this cycle. If she does not, I need you to tell me of what and how much is left. If she ate more, same things, of what and how much. You're a cook, Grillby, I know you can follow this, and I need you to. No mixed foods. Yes, stir-fry has vegetables and starches, but you cannot measure what she did and did not eat of what. No matter how little she eats, even if it's nothing, you are to be with her vigilantly for one hour after every meal. No bathroom, no naps, no excuses. She needs to retain this food." This was just the first thing? Grillby ran a hand over Clara's hair, more over to soothe himself. "Second, she cannot be alone for more than ten minutes. Thir-"

"Wait, go back a second. Gaster, I need to open the bar." Grillby interrupted.

"And you have a back room, do you not? Where you're constantly entering in and out of to cook? Surely you have room in there for a 79-pound girl." When he didn't get a response, he continued. "Third, Clara," Opening her eyes, she lazily looked at Gaster. "You cannot have your bedroom door. And Grillby, you must sleep with your door open. In addition to this, you can change in the bathroom, but when you shower, the door must be open. Mind you, not the curtain. Fourth, and I should not need to remind either of you of this, but the tube is never to be removed unless it is by me or another medical professional with a pretty damn good reason to." The two both nodded. "Fifth… I don't have a fifth. Ah, I do. Grillby?" The seriousness swept the elemental's attention. "You take care of her, you hear?"

"It's what I live for."

**Author's Notes: Hooooo, boy... Well, I hope none of you were squeamish about NG tubes! I did so much research about that that I had to actually leave stuff out (stuff that most would find boring or tmi), so if it seems a little inaccurate, it is for that reason. **

**This was a big trust moment for Clara and Gaster. From here on, you'll find that their relationship has changed a little. **

**This chapter is a little short, so I'll post the next soon. Also, I kinda promised that reason why I delayed so long before... Well... You see, I got the chapters mixed up, and I meant the NEXT chapte-**

**Grillby: So, you lied to them?**

**N-No, I just- I-I'll elude to it!**

**Gaster: But you're not going to outright tell them...**

**Oh look, another reason for me to make you ****_miserable, Gaster_****! **

**Gaster: . . . And ruin the plot?**

**Alright, alright, you win... So the little surprise has to do with Grillby's surgeries. It will ALL become obvious in the next chapter! I PROMISE! Also, be prepared for ~feeeels~! Heh heh heh...**

**Gaster: You really do have problems...**

**Grillby: And I thought that Cinders had issues...**

**NO! SPOILERS! Also, no one knows about that yet, so shush! You want another scar there, buddy-boo? **

**Grillby: Buddy... Okay, shut up...**

**Stay Safe, Lovelies!**


	12. Chapter 12: Confined

Chapter 12: Confined

By the time Gaster had finished another half hour of his lecture, Grillby's head was swimming with information and things to do. The entire ride back to the house was spent with Clara trying to not mess with the tubing and Grillby trying to focus on driving as he mulled over the list. Go shopping, take down the doors, scour the house for anything dangerous and lock it in the safe, take the locks off the bathroom doors, put internal locks on all the windows and the front door… Clara truly was to be tethered to him or Gaster, and they had to ensure that. Until that was all done, she would have to sleep with him in his room. When they got inside, Grillby kicked off his shoes, tossed his vest aside, and untucked his shirt as he glanced at the time. It was nearly four in the afternoon and he had to start dinner soon.

"Hey, Clara?" She went to sit at the nook, slumping forward into her arms. "What happened to make Gaster… change his mind?" She knew he meant about wanting to institutionalize her, but she still didn't want to talk, readjusting her head in her arms till her throat was relatively comfortable. Gaster gave Grillby a handful of the numbing lozenges, but they were to be used sparingly. When she didn't respond, he dropped it, and started going over her meal plan.

It seemed complex, and awfully strict. Set amounts of certain meats, what seasonings are allowed, how much of each kind of food. He was surprised to see that there was a section for desserts. Going through the entire list of banned foods, Grillby was slowly devising meals and alternatives. There was not much room, a lot of it being bland, unseasoned foods._ Nothing mixed together, huh?_ Even with his love and knowledge of cooking, the elemental was backed against a wall. There was no way he could make things seem interesting to eat._ Stews aren't going to save me now…_ He pondered about his past when dealing with limited supplies.

Clara got up and went to go into her room, only to have a clearing throat stop her.

"I just wanna lie down." Broken, she finally braved talking.

"Then lie down on the couch." He offered gently.

"Grillby, come on, please." She was defeated, already having to go through shit she never wanted to. The instructions clearly stated that she was not to be out of his sight till the locks were in place.

"No, Clara, I'm sorry." He started digging into the fridge, pulling out some chicken breasts.

"Why did I even bother choosing here then?" She started shouting, stomping her foot like a child. "Might as well be at the stupid lab with people who don't give a shit!" She was frustrated, exhausted, and limited; knowing this, Grillby was not going to respond. It would be best if she just vented and got it out. Hearing a soft thud, he flipped around in concern. She sat on the floor against her doorway, head in her arms, crying.

"Oh, my little turtle…" Grillby went and sat beside her, pulling her into his lap as she held onto him.

"I don't wanna do this anymore. He wouldn't have known if I- if I wasn't stupid."

"Shh, you're not stupid. And it's for the better, Clara, you know tha-"

"It doesn't feel like it, it hurts, I-I'm scared. Grillby, make it stop." She was crying so much that her tears seeped into his shirt, making a soft hissing sound against his flames. The way she pleaded brought an old pain to the general's soul.

"It'll stop eventually, I promise, you'll get bette-"

"Why the fuck did he do this to me, why am I being punished for it?" That didn't make sense…

"Who? Gaster?"

"N-No…"

"… Me?" She gently batted her fist against his back in frustration.

"No, that f-fucking Kyle…" Oh…

"He will get his punishment, alright, he will."

"He doesn't have a tube down his fucking throat and-and in pain and I just wanna go home…"

"Where do you want your home to be?" He gently pet her hair.

"Here, but not like this." She no longer felt this was her home. It was a prison, a constant reminder that she was suffering. Soon the locks will take away her fresh air. The sheets over the bathroom mirror will mock her. The confiscated remotes will leave the tv black and unfeeling. The hollow doorway will stare at her as she slept. The breakfast nook will force feed her. All she had was Grillby… and yet she felt betrayed.

"Things will be back to normal eventually, just give it time. You'll be happier after this. He's gone from your life, you can get better."

_ This is better, being thin is better. Just take out the tube. They'll learn just like you did._

_ No, no, no, I'm not listening to you again, shut up-_

_ You know better than that, I am you, I'm not going anywhere. You think that even if you get better, that I'll leave? I'm always going to be here, I'll always come back, and you'll follow me. You know I'm right. You know that they're ruining you, ruining everything that we spent two years working for. Why do you both staying with them? They'll hurt you too. _

"Clara?" He grew concerned as her grip on him tightened, nails digging into his back. She was staring at nothing, head turned off to the side. "Clara, can you say something?"

"No more…" whispered against him. Grillby waited for her to explain. "Shut up… I don't want you anymore… Go away…" But she held him tighter. She wasn't talking to him.

_Talking to yourself, huh? Guess you really are crazy after all. Maybe you should be institutionalized! _

"S-Shut… up…" Her foot started bouncing, turning her head against Grillby's chest.

"What's wrong, Clara?"

"She won't… shut… up."

"Who?"

"Ana…"

_ Gave me a name and everything, huh? But not like it matters. Because I'm you, I'm your thoughts, your reality. You're desires._

"Like a second train of thought…" Clara continued.

"Like you're fighting with yourself…" Now he understood. It was the same way for him, not knowing which part of him to listen to, what with his past. He knew when his thoughts were irrational, but fighting took so much effort that losing sometimes was inevitable. Clara's battles were merciless. "Well, how about this?" Clara dragged her head up, careful not to snag the tube against the buttons on his shirt. "You listen to me. Replace her voice with mine. And I'm not going anywhere, but she is. I know it's hard, it took me years to learn to block it all out, but you will. And I'm here."

_ I'm here._

_ Not for l-_

_ I'm here._

_ I'm here._

_ Stupid idi-_

_ I'm here. _

_ I'm not going anywhere._

_ Block it al-_

_ Block him out!_

_ Block it all out._

The soft crackling voice enveloped Clara's thoughts as she closed her eyes, tucking her head back down. He ran a hand over her back again and again.

"Shh, you're alright."

_ You're alright._

_ Shh…_

Clara focused on his warmth, her hands sliding down in comfort. She wanted him to be with her fully, to hear him, uninterrupted.

"Can you talk to me like before?" She meekly asked.

"Before?"

"Like yesterday…" To clarify, she slipped one hand under back of his shirt, feeling the flames jump and twine in her hand in surprise. Hesitant, he complied, sitting her up in his lap to unbutton his shirt. He was a little nervous due to yesterday, but if it helped her…

She slowly leaned against him again, smiling gently as the wisps caressed her. It was calm, loving, and inviting. Understanding. Just before she closed her eyes, she saw a pale streak that went straight down from his left shoulder to about his fourth rib. She traced her hand over it, making the elemental shiver.

"I'd rather if… it's sensitive, please." She knew it was a scar, but couldn't help but to want to touch it. She separated from him again, looking his chest over. Seeing that she was distracted from her thoughts, Grillby did not stop her. She was surprised that she hadn't seen all those scars before. He had to have had at least twenty. A particularly jagged star shape caught her eye, the skin around it discolored and riddled with tiny white specks, hinting at stitches.

"That one is… difficult…" Grillby breathed. "Stabbed by a six-point star spear… Gaster found me… I… don't remember much. Could barely stay conscious, much less alive." It was the size of her fist, just below his heart. "Destroyed most of my ribs entirely… I was called a saint for living, blessed by the stars. What load of bull…" Clara looked to him, his eyes trained on her with a half-smile. "Come here." He picked her up by her thighs and walked back into the kitchen, setting her on the counter between the fridge and the stove. "You ask me about anything you want, and I'll start dinner, okay?" She nodded as he passed a thumb over her cheek that did not have the tubing taped to it. She sat there for a while, just watching him as he cleaned the chicken before breading it.

"Have you ever wanted to lose weight?" He was not expecting questions not relating to the war, but accepted it.

"Not really. When I was younger, and in the war, I didn't think about those things, and most people didn't. We starved for a while, underground. I guess I learned to appreciate food even more when I ate pinecones out of desperation. They're not that bad, by the way." Clara made a face, but let him continue. "When food wasn't a problem, though, I did gorge on it; at one point, I even hoarded. I realized one day that… I was unhealthy. I went to food to forget what I went through, what I lost… I was still only about twenty in human years, but I wasn't fat. Just unhealthy. So, I started working out, and got a little carried away. Broke my elbow trying to lift something probably close to 150 pounds. The look on Gaster's face when he examined it… He's never going to let me live that down…" He was smiling in thought, now cooking the chicken in a pan. "It took him _hours_ to set it. Needless to say, I learned. I was smart about it after that, only doing what I knew I could do." His hand gripped the pan till his knuckles faded white, only to let go.

"But you're strong now." He nodded slowly.

"Yes… it's the only way I can cope with certain issues. Mainly that fucking Gaster took away my cigarettes!" He flipped the chicken with his bare hand and a prominent slap, before looking away a bit bashfully. "I used to be a chain smoker. Being fire, I never thought it'd be an issue. Apparently, it is. One day, Gaster smelled the smoke on me, but thought nothing of it. When I kept leaving out the back of the bar to light every fifteen minutes, he caught me. Imagine Gaster turning completely blue in the face from screaming. That's how angry he was at me. Smacked me across the face, pinned me to the wall, shoved me to the ground… You'll never see him like that again unless you give me a pack… Don't, by the way. I enjoy living." He joked with a smirk as he peeled carrots. Clara had to give a breathy laugh at this, but intently eyed the carrots.

"How much do I have to eat?"

"As much as you can." She didn't like that answer. She wanted numbers, distinct portions. Distracting herself from watching the food, she took out her phone and unlocked, only for Grillby to swipe it away. He tapped a few things and handed it back. The wifi was logged out, without Clara knowing the password, and she had no data on her plan. "You heard Gaster, no internet."

"Stupid…" She instead went to play a few of her games, but they all require some sort of connection. "I can't do anything on my phone without the internet!"

"You can text."

"Who?" She held her phone up, showing only six contacts. Grillby, the bar, Gaster, the lab, home, and Kyle. He took the phone again, typed a few things, and gave it back again. Kyle's number was gone, and was replaced with Undyne and Alphy's numbers. "You know Alphys?"

"I know everyone from the underground. Just so happen to know her number off the top of my head."

"Is she trustworthy?" Grillby had to stop a moment.

"I wouldn't trust her with things that could be non-medically based gossip. Undyne is, though." She did feel bad about leaving Alphys in the dark like that.

"Hey, Alphys, this is Clara. Grillby gave me your number. Sorry if you're busy." She texted. Waiting for a reply didn't take long.

"Hey, Clara! I'm not busy, don't worry. I'm sorry you got scolded by Gaster, I assume that is." Well, she wasn't wrong. The lack of stutter seemed out of character, but it was a text message.

"I was wondering; can I talk to you about something personal?"

"Oh, of course! What's wrong?"

"So you know how I was in the bathroom after I left?"

"Yeah?" Clara went to continue, but found her fingers wouldn't move. She'd look down on her, wouldn't she, pity her? She'll see the nasogastric tube anyway, what with going to the labs every day.

"I have-" Clara stopped again, rephrasing herself. "-problems eating, so that's why Gaster was so upset."

"Oh no, and I gave you that candy! I'm so sorry, I had no idea!"

"It's fine, you didn't know."

"I'm here if you need to talk. I know Gaster can be a little hard to talk to." Usually, Clara hated the 'I'm here for you' garbage, because most people only said it, but never bothered to really get to understand what was going on. But there was something about Alphys that felt real.

"Do you mind if I do?"

"Not at all! To be honest, I have some guilt relating to food too, so hopefully I'll be of some help." She appreciated the honesty. Maybe that is why she felt real.

"I'm not well."

"What do you mean?" Clara had to have typed five different things, only to delete them all.

"It's best if I just show you, if that's okay."

"As long as you're okay with it!" Waiting for Grillby to look away so she wasn't in his peripheral, she snapped a quick photo of her face. She saw what she looked like for the first time with the tube. And she hated it. "Omg! I'm so sorry! I knew you were thin, but why aren't you here? That doesn't look like the medical wing."

"Gaster gave me special privileges to be watched from home. Grillby's been taking care of me."

"Oh wow! He never does that, but I guess he does know what's best. Him and Grillby are like brothers!"

"Yeah, I've noticed. I feel bad about being such a burden on them though. I've kinda been a bit of an asshole lately." Was profanity unprofessional in this case?

"Well, you're going through a lot, Clara. You have a right to be a little rude once in a while. It's hard to keep quiet when you're so frustrated." This resonated with her, and it sounded like Alphys really did know what Clara had meant. Grillby patted her knee.

"Wrap it up, dinner's almost ready." Dread crept chillingly into her stomach.

"I have to go, I'll talk to you later. Thank you, Alphys!"

"Any time, Clara! Stay strong, and I'm here for you!" It sounded so genuine in Clara's mind. She looked up to see two plates being put on the nook. Chicken parmesan, instant mashed potatoes, carrots, and a glass of milk. _Great. Might as well of had stayed at the lab and had them cook the meal._ This at least seemed to be made with higher quality ingredients.

"Come on." Grillby lowered her down so to not aggravate her still open wound, and sat at his identical plate. He was just as nervous about this as she was, but he would never tell her that. Creeping up to the stool, she felt herself lean away when she sat. "Sorry it's so… bland. Not my choice." He tried to hide the slight face he made as he tasted the chicken. There were just bread crumbs, no herbs or seasonings.

"You can eat what you want, you know."

"It's fine." Even though he said it with a smile, he was writhing, wanting to add so much to the meal. He wasn't going to let her eat 'special' meals alone. She picked up her fork and sloshed the potatoes a bit before taking a bite. She felt how it brushed against the tube and nearly gagged, grabbing at her nose. "What's wrong?"

"This stupid fucking thing! I can't even eat!" She lost her patience almost immediately, mostly due to her growing exhaustion.

"You need to, Cla-"

"I know, and I actually want to but it's driving me insane!" She grabbed the tube, only to let go and vigorously ruffle her hair to get rid of the urge to yank it out.

"Wow, easy there." He took her hands away and started untangling her hair from one of them. "You're not use to this yet, just take your time. Try not to feel it." He knew that was nearly impossible, but the sentiment was there. "Start with this, okay?" He slid the glass closer, rubbing her shoulder. She reached forward and took a sip, still glowering in discomfort.

"It's not food, so it's not as bad…" Again, she took another go at the potatoes, taking a bite the size of her nail. It was better, but still cringed. Grillby thought a moment. He was not allowed to give her a lozenge for meals, being that she would not be focusing on the food, which was a big part of her recovery. Textures play a large part in eating disorders. Slimy was fat. Smooth was oily. Crunchy was fresh and low calorie. Gummy was sugar or fat. Lean was fat and high calorie. But then again, she was just trying to eat at this point.

"Well…" He took Clara's plate. "Sorry, Gaster." Pulling out a blender, he tossed one item from the plate in, added some chicken broth, and blended it to high hell. He did this till he handed her now three different glasses. Regardless of the color, Clara took a go at the chicken parmesan glass.

"It's… okay…"

"Think you can handle it?" The texture was less than appealing, but it was better than the alternative, so she nodded. "Sorry that… _this_ is what you gotta deal with." Clara only shrugged between sips. Nearing an hour later, Clara finally gave up, bringing the glasses to the sink. "Hold on." He took each one, pulled out a digital scale, and weighed the remains, penciling them onto a work sheet. "Gaster's got me doing homework… 2,500 and I'm still doing algebra…" Clara couldn't help but laugh.

"2,535."

"Sorry?"

"Undyne." Grillby's face dropped before he scowled.

"Why that little… She's lucky she's under police protection…" Apparently, these two had some sort of further connection. "What else did she tell you?" He led them to the couch, flicking the tv on. _Cartoons are safe to watch, right?_ No celebrities… Gaster would have corrected him had he been there.

"Um… 6'8", some crazy number for your weight,"

"280 or so."

"You're 2,535, retired police officer, bar owner, um… and something else."

"Retired general." He nearly spat this as his bare shoulder gave a small flare, glaring at the tv. "They insisted on keeping that on there. There's nothing good about it, and it doesn't matter now."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault… I had to protect my people, even if I was practically a kid. I watched as people died around me… So, I rose in ranks… Eventually, I found myself as the right-hand man to the former general. I looked up to him. His name was Bon, as in bonfire, but everyone called him Brush."

"Like a brush fire…"

"Exactly… He never had the heart to tell them how much he hated that name. He was humble, and did what he had to do. He… died not too far from where I was… His horse was shot with an arrow, and when he fell, he fell right onto a human's sword. And I stabbed that human back." He growled through his teeth before turning solemn. "I held him as he dowsed… giving me his helmet… making me general…" Blinking away a tear, he sighed as he got up and left. Clara stayed, giving him some time alone, but he came back. "This… was his." He sat back down, cradling a gold and black helmet, a superfluous, red plume on top. Grillby stared at it with sorrowful eyes, brushing a thumb over the details. "This… actually is him…"

"What do you mean?" She was scared to ask. Lifting the helmet off his lap, a severely aged, cloth bag was revealed, hints of color having faded away.

"I… collected his dust and ashes… It's tradition among my people to…" He had to screw his eyes shut a moment, suppressing something. "…to take the ashes of our loved ones and harden them into stones with our magic and fire, the same color that their flames were… I didn't know at the time, but Bon did not have any family, loved ones, or kin left… So, I just held onto him." He smoothed his thumb over the horribly aged bag, smiling a moment. "I still miss you, my General… Thank you…" He slipped the helmet back over the bag and held it to his chest, suddenly look like a young child.

"Grillby?" He glanced at her a moment before bringing his knees up. "It sounds like… he treated you like a son."

"He did…"

"So, wouldn't you be a loved one?"

"It's not my place. And I can't do that again… It takes so much power to do it… I could do it, physically, but… I never found anything suitable either." Clara shifted in confusion, urging him to go on. He got up again, holding the helmet like an infant. Coming back without the headwear, he held out the wire and green stone necklace from before to her. Clara took it gingerly in her hands as he sat back down.

"This is… my mother." He continued. "I returned home, one day, after Bon fell, looking for his kin. She was gone. I knew it was her, her dress around her ashes… and she always wore that dumb bracelet I made her as a flameling." Clara thought back to the jewelry in the drawer, but those seemed too recent to be that old. "I solidified her ashes, took the metal from around the house, and made the necklace. She was that strongest, kindest, purest woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, not to mention to be called her son." Rushing a little, Grillby took the necklace out of Clara's hands and clutched it to his chest. "I-I'm sorry… O-Old memories from a rambling man…" He wiped his eyes, turning away. "A-As I meant to explain before, this represents my mother. Like a tree, she's- she _was_ strong, adaptable, beautiful, persistent… I don't know what I would make Bon into."

"Maybe he's not meant to be anything but Bon." He chuckled a little.

"Don't be silly, Clara, every elemental has their thing."

"Well, what's yours?" Grillby had never thought about that. In truth, no elemental ever thought about what they would be, because it wouldn't matter. They'd be dead.

"Not my place, now is it?"

"So… whose is it?" He hadn't thought of that either. He was an orphan. He supposed his sister could, but they had a falling out centuries ago.

"Fuku… But she's too young to know of such things. It's a lost tradition anyways…"

"It isn't to you." The green stones reflected his orange glow. When Fuku was born, they were shocked to see she had her grandmother's flames. Grillby was clearly orange, and his sister was a light red.

"It doesn't matter once I'm gone. People can do whatever they like to my dust and ashes."

"That's not right!" Clara exclaimed. "It's still you, that's why you still treat Bon and your mom with so much care! Telling people to do whatever… It's not right!" Grillby shot to his feet, his bare chest sparking and flaring dangerously red, yelling.

"And it was right with how during the war we were dowsed without a second thought, and abandoned to blow away without anyone knowing we even died?" His eyes widened. "I-I'm sorry…" He sat back down, hunching over. "I think you should just drop this…" Clara slid over, not daring to touch him, a powerful heat still emanating from him.

"I'm sorry that happened… But it wasn't right that that happened. That's why you gotta tell people, so you don't… blow away…" She bit her lip, the idea of her guardian dying pulling at her. The elemental looked to her.

"I… Thank you, Clara… I guess I just wish there were more of us elementals around. Someone to carry out and uphold our… Oh, what does it matter. It's lost on them all anyways. I tried so long ago, but none of them get it. They don't get what it's like to absorb the sun's warmth, to breath in fire, to-to… I'm too tired to think about all of this…" He got up, turning off the tv and taking Clara's hand in his. "I wanna sleep…" Entering his room, he replaced the necklace in the drawer, pulled something from the dresser, and slipping into the bathroom. Returning in pajama pants, Grillby realized Clara was still in her day clothes. "Did we ever buy you sleepwear?" She shook her head. "Shit… Here." He dug into his dresser and gave her an old tee-shirt, gesturing to the bathroom.

Clara looked into the only mirror that wouldn't be covered, taking what little time she had to take in her looks. Even though she showered yesterday, her hair was flat and crinkled. She touched the tubing, turning her head to get a better look. Getting undressed, she realized that her bra didn't even fit; in fact, she lost so much weight she didn't even need it anymore. It was like she had no more breasts. Just slumping skin. Not wanting to see anymore, she pulled the shirt on, which fell well to her knees. _Guess I don't need pants either._ Her knees were like tumorous growths compared to her legs, lumpy and, she had to admit, gross.

"Clara, you alright?" She hadn't been in there long, but too long to slip a shirt on. He was just doing what he was told. Collecting her clothes and leaving, she saw Grillby crawling into bed on the side closest to the closet. "Until I can get everything set up, you'll have to sleep here. Sorry."

"That's okay." Going to the side of the bed that Grillby was on, she bunched her clothes up on the floor. The bartender was stunned as she lied on the floor and bid him a good night. At least the rug was warm and soft, far better than a tile, bathroom floor.

"I… Clara, there's plenty of room, you can sleep on the bed." She looked up to him leaning over the edge.

"I don't mind, I'm comfy." She was not in luxury heaven, but it was an improvement from other floors. The only downside was that her hip bones dug sharply into the floor. They always seemed to get in the way recently. Even propping her back against a wall was uncomfortable due to her spine poking out.

"Nope, not happening." Stepping over her as he got off the bed, he scooped her up and put her on the other side. "You're not sleeping on the floor, you're not a dog. Even if I had a dog, I'd let them sleep on the bed." His reasoning left her no choice. She scrunched over to the far end, lying parallel with it. "What are you doing?"

"Giving… you room…" _This is going to be a long night,_ Grillby thought.

"You don't need to give me room, it's a king-sized bed." He gently pulled her closer to the middle, trying to not snap her in two. "Didn't I tell you to forget what that prick told you?" The rhetorical question made Clara start second guessing everything she wanted to do.

Moving away, he taught her that. Tell him he's too kind, him as well. Offer her body as a thanks for a bed for the night, he had to beat that into her. So, instead, Clara lied there as Grillby started nodding off. Was it rude to move to be comfortable? Was she allowed to sleep? Seeing her brow furrowed between his eyelids trying to force him to sleep, he reached over to her, taking her hand.

"There's nothing that you could do that would upset me…" He reassured. Looking him in the eyes, she slowly moved to lie on her stomach. He said nothing. She inched up bit by bit to rest against the pillow… He smiled at her.

"D-Do you want me to do… anything?" It was habit to offer… and she hated it, but she needed to hear it from him.

"Nothing at all, but to sleep." He failed to keep smiling as he let his exhaustion overwhelm him. Clara stared back. Just sleep…

**Author's Notes: Hello again! *Gasp!* A Gaster free chapter! **

** I realized that I never wrote as to why Undyne and Grillby have a... questionable friendship. Long story short, Undyne is fine with violence and all as a first reaction, Grillby is not, same with our little pacifist Gaster.**

** So this chapter is really a small insight into how both characters think at this point, mostly Clara's Ana voice and Grillby's past. Grillby (I keep writing Girllby) has to divert his mind a lot from his ticks and habits, so he has a pretty decent idea of what Clara means by a second train of thought. Speaking ooooooof... **

** I am writing Grillby and Gaster's wartime backstory! It can be read on its own, but it will explain a ****_lot_**** of why Grillbs and Gaster do what they do in this story. I was going to make it a small summary story but...**

**Grillby: You decided to pull out all the stops...**

**Gaster: All the 'torture and gore and emotional pain' stops... **

**Shuuush, you keep ruining it! So yeah, it's obviously going to be rated Mature, for all those reasons plus a bit more. **

**Grillby: Yeah, thanks for that... **

**Stay Safe, Lovelies!**


	13. Chapter 13: Segued

Chapter 13: Segued

Something pulled against her face. Waking up a little too fast, Clara accidently tugged on her tube.

"Agh, fucking damn it!" Thuds raced across the house, her elemental already at her side, fully dressed in his work clothes.

"What is it, what's wrong, what happened-" He sat her up, smoothing her head and arms, looking her over frantically. Pulling the oversized shirt down over her underwear, which had not phased the man, Clara pushed against him.

"I'm fine, just this stupid thing. I pulled on it on accident." Grillby looked relieved. He went into the bathroom and came back with some medical tape, gently reapplying the feeding tube to her nose and behind her ear.

"T-There…" She took note to his hands, smears of black on the tips and pads of them.

"How long have you been up?"

"About three hours or so." Looking to the clock on his nightstand, it was about eight in the morning. "I had some things to do before work. You sure you're okay?" Doing a mental assessment, she felt fine, minus the pain in her lower region.

"Yeah." Unconvinced, Grillby left and came back with her routine tea and pain medication, heading to the bathroom to wash his hands. "Thanks. You do too much for me…" Tea was the only thing she did not feel guilty about having.

"It's the least I can do, turtle!" He replied over running… water? Deciding to endure her healing agony, she limped to the door. Instead of water, it was an off-color, viscus liquid that set on fire when he touched it. "Yes?"

"How can you…? You're fire." The elemental chuckled as he shut off the tap.

"Well, that's because it's not water." He reached for the cabinet under the sink. "See?" There was a sort of canister attached to the water pipe, filled with a much darker concentration of the liquid she saw. "Gaster and I thought of it. There's a blade that emulsifies this oil solution into the water, that way I don't get dowsed. That's why I have my own bathroom. That, and it has a jet tub." He smirked at the commodity.

"Jacuzzi."

"Why do they call it that, that's such a weird name?"

"I think it's a brand, or something. Like Band-aid or Cling wrap."

"Wait, that's not what they are?" He looked shocked.

"No, they're bandages and plastic food wrap."

"But I thought… bandages are like the stuff you wrap around you, Band-aids are small and…" Clara shrugged at his adorable misunderstanding. His phone's alarm suddenly went off, as he frantically tried to shut its rather obnoxiously high-pitched ringing off. "Well, you're already up. Let's go eat something…"

"Uh… O-Okay…" The set schedules were already unsettling, for some reason. Following him into the kitchen, she saw a small, metal toolbox in the living room, along with a hardware store bag. "What's…"

"Ignore that." He gave her a plate of different cubed fruit, toast, a small bowl of yogurt, her tea, as well as three different chewable pills. "I tried to get only soft foods." Thirty minutes later, and less than half of the small breakfast was touched. Toast untouched, too crass for her throat, a third of the fruit eaten, only a few spoons of yogurt, and none of the pills taken. "_Please_ try, Clara."

"I did…" She could still very well withstand to eat more, but her mind overpowered her, causing her stomach to curdle in disgust. "I'm gonna go to the ba-"

"No, you're not!" She was caught by her arm, trying to pull away as her throat tightened.

"P-Please, I don't fee-"

"You heard what Gaster said, you can't be doing this anymore." Her arm sunk in his grip as she held her stomach, her voice cracked into a whimper.

"I need some ice…" He was not knowing entirely what this meant, but the shutter in her voice and the way her back bent forward made him rush. Not caring how his hands sputtered and stung from grabbing a fistful of ice out of the dispenser, he sat her right there on the floor and held it out the her. Breathing long and heavy, she took them from him, popping one in her mouth, using one of her wet hands to hold the back of her neck.

"You okay?" She shook her head, spitting the ice back into the rest of them.

"Don't feel good."

"Does the ice help?" Clara nodded as she sucked on another, leaning her shoulder against the leg of the stool, letting her head lull back. The ice slowly melted in her hand, unable to feel it anymore as she sucked on even more of it. Grillby looked at his own hands, flames low, dark, and shaking. _Fuck_… "I'll be back…" Clara didn't bother to care, just waiting for the nausea to pass. "Come on." Opening her eyes, she saw he was wearing white, cotton gloves and his coat, pocketing the pills. Feeling a little better, she got up, tossing away the ice, and collecting her own things, following him out the door.

"Dr. Gaster, you have some visitors."

"Thank you, Mandy." He didn't take his eyes from the computer, typing vigorously. "How can I help yo- Ah, Grillbert, Clara!" He stood, as they made themselves at home. The scientist couldn't help but notice how the elemental kept his hands out open, sitting with them palm up on his thighs. Not to mention the gloves, which probably had some prescription ointment underneath them, which he wrote out. "So, who's my patient?"

"Har har, Gaster." Thoroughly unamused, Grillby started to carefully slip the gloves off. Clara hadn't noticed his injuries, holding back the urge to take his hands in hers and care for them. There were still barely visible, ruby-colored flames, a hint of black underneath. "Work's going to be fun." He lied.

"Stars, Grillbert, I thought you were more careful than this." Gaster immediately started surveying the damage. "This is close to a second-degree dowse! I'll get my things, wait here." And he was gone. Occasionally, the bartender made a face as the stinging came in waves, some more painful than others. His hands started the shake when he doubled over, groaning in his throat. Clara didn't realize it till now, being that she had still been a little nauseous, but Grillby had driven with his wrists more than his palms. A moment later, the doctor was back with what seemed like a massive toolbox labeled "Fire Elemental" on it. "How did you even manage this?"

"Ice…" He echoed Clara from before. Gaster was shocked.

"Ice? You were handling ice with your bare hands! You're not a child, Grillbz, why did you do that?" Contradictory to his tone, he was gentle as he sprayed acetone on his hands, causing the equivalent reaction to a disinfectant spray for humans.

"Fuck… I was getting it f-ah, fuck! Clara wasn't feeling good so- fucking Asgore's- could you stop?" He would have swatted at him if he could, resorting to kicking his rolling chair back a foot.

"Well if you hadn't grabbed ice, I would." He scooted up and started the process again.

"She said ice helped with eating, so I got some."

"With your hands?"

"… I panicked…" Grillby didn't look at either of them.

"Clara, can you fill in the holes here?" She assumed she meant in the story, and not in Grillby's hands. Glancing, she was relieved to see this was so. She really did not know much of anything about monsters, and had to be sure. Gaster was now applying a thick oily substance onto Grillby's hands, which the small flames started to consume.

"I ate breakfast, but I felt like I was going to be sick, so he stopped me. I asked for ice to suck on, but I didn't think he'd use his hands. Like a Tupperware or something." She fought back the urge to remind Grillby that that too was a brand name. Wrapping Grillby's hands in gauze, Gaster nodded.

"So, you _were_ being stupid." He got pushed back again, but caused the elemental to yelp in pain as the bandages to pull on his hand. "Serves you right." As she watched them finish up, the medical box being repacked, Clara felt a sense of dread creep up on her. "Alright, go on, get out of here, you dumbass…" Grillby blew a puff of fire at him in response, pulling the meal report from his bag as gingerly as he could what with his hands, as well as the pills from his pocket, handing them to Gaster.

"Maybe you should practice what you preach, those bag under your eyes are looking a little heavy." With a smirk, he kissed the top of Clara's head and scurried off before Gaster could retort. Clara touched that spot, looking at the doorway he disappeared through. The heat from it spread, but it wasn't painful. It wasn't anything like the scalding hot water Kyle use to dump on her, but it did seep lower down her head and face."

"Clara!"

"Wha-?"

"Took me four times to get your attention. What's with you today?" He hadn't meant for it to come out as crude as it had, but she didn't care, smoothing her hand down to rest head chin on.

"Just zoned out a little."

"Well, can I close the door, or are you going to kiss it?" Clara was shocked, suddenly giving him all the attention he wanted. "Geez, I was kidding! Honestly, I… Oh!" She didn't like that… He looked smug and murmured to himself "I see what this is."

"What?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing, forget I said anything." But he was still grotesquely smug, his Cheshire grin widening as he sifted through papers, almost aimlessly. "So, first psychological session today…" he mulled. "Good of a time as any, I suppose."

"I guess?" She didn't know what that was supposed to mean.

"First things first, though." Gaster held out the pills to Clara, who in return just held them there. "You need to eat those vitamins, Clara. It was a part of our deal." She took her time, eating only half of a chewable pill at a time. "Grillby wrote here that you barely ate anything as well…"

"I really did try…" She meekly said. Gaster gave her a pitying, pleading look.

"I suppose that is all you can do… As long as it is a genuine try." Clara vigorously nodded to him. "Alright, but I expect to see improvements from here on out. Let's see… Ah, yes, your session. I'm not going to start from you telling me the whole Kyle story. Schnyder already sent me the report, and I presume that is still a rather raw subject..." Clara stiffened in realizing that he had full access to all her files, medical and all. "So, let's start from the 'now.' What do you think about living with Grillby?" That smug grin returned.

_ Oh, this guy… _

"Yes?" He questioned her look, a mix of a scowl and warry.

_ … is looking to get slapped._ Playing his game, Clara shrugged.

"I don't know, he's nice, generous, hospitable, good cook…"

"You're rather nonchalant about someone who's saved your life."

"Meh, I mean I've seen it all." Gaster copied her look from before.

"W-What?"

"He didn't tell you? Huh, I thought he told you everything… Well, he's gifted, that's for sure."

"Could you clari- er, elaborate." He's been trying to not make that joke for days, and it slipped when it was the least appropriate time for one.

"What's there to elaborate. You know his habits."

"He _what_?" Standing, the chair rolled back and hit the bookshelf as he dialed on his cell. "That fucking son of a bitch, I'm so gonn-"

"Gaster, Gaster, I'm kidding!" Ignoring the dial tone, he blankly stared at her.

"Hey, G, everything alright?" Grillby was on the other line, oblivious to the hell that his ward had nearly rained upon him.

"What do you mean you were kidding?" Gaster yelled.

"Uh, G?"

"I was messing with you! He doesn't do that." Clara had to keep from laughing.

"Who doesn't do what?"

"Ah, sorry, Grillby! _Clara_ decided to play a prank on me… which was _not funny_!"

"What was it?" She could hear how amused her guardian already was, but realization of what would be explain brought a new panic to her.

"Just keep your fucking pants on, Grillbert!" And with that he hung up. "Let me _Clara_-fy something for yo-" Of course, timing ruined by a phone call. "Yes?"

"_What the hell, Gaster, are you serious? I would never, under any circumstance, do that to Clara! What happened was an accident and I apologized profusely for i-_"

"Wow, wow, wow, accident? What are you talking about?" For a minute, the two scientists thought the line had gone dead.

"I'll talk to you later…" Now Grillby hung up on him.

"What the…" He looked to Clara, her face buried in her hands. "What. Happened?" He rarely got like this, especially after his sons had grown up, but his fatherly instincts wanted to drag that elemental back into his office and give him a lecture that he will never forget, even after he turned to dust and ash.

"It was an accident…" She muffled through her hands.

"What. Did. He. Do?" Gaster had to keep his wits about him so his eye lights did not disappear, a rather frightful thing that skeletons were capable of and more.

"He didn't mean to, it was an accident, but he was wearing a robe, but forgot and he went to call it a night, but I was still there, and…" Ending with a groan, Clara remembered how she had embarrassingly run into the door that night.

"Clara, look at me." She could hear him crouched in front of her now. She didn't want to, but peeked over curled knuckles. His demeanor changed instantly, concerned and worried. "Are you alright?"

"Well, I ran into a doorframe, but yeah. Just… wasn't expecting that." She felt that warmth spread across her face again, biting her lip. Gaster smiled, seeing she was fine, and embarrassed.

"Knowing his habits, I'd say that's an appropriate response."

"What do you mean? I-I mean, I know he had that habit of… not liking clothes, but why the response?" Gaster's turn now.

"I mean, he's not much to look at. What?" She was baffled, mouth hanging open. He was serious. He was actually saying that…

"What the- Gaster, you can't- What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Why was she defending him, it's not like she got a good look…

"I've seen him plenty, you're not missing out on much."

"Well, clearly I missed something when that happened." Clara pouted now, crossing her arms and slouching. His voice twisted into dark amusement.

"So, you do like him?" Only to sit right back up, straight as a pin.

"I do not!"

"A father, then?"

"Ew, no…"

"Why the 'ew?'"

"He's just… not the fatherly type… to me, anyway. I know he is to Fuku."

"So… you have absolutely no romantic interest in a 6'8", 280 plus pound of pure muscle, retired general, former police officer, lifelong bachelor of a bartending fire elemental?" That far too sounded rehearsed.

"None." Gaster nodded.

"Alright, good to know." He grabbed his clipboard, writing something down.

"Like it would matter? He's a bachelor, and I'm, like, his niece's age. That's just… creepy."

"What if you were closer in age, hypothetically?"

"I don't know, I guess if he was actually interested in a relationship…" She hadn't realized what she was saying. Gaster was reeling her in.

"What if he was? Just because he's a bachelor doesn't mean that he has not tried in the past."

"I'm too much work… I'd be a bad girlfriend, I haven't even thanked hi- oh my god, I've never thanked him…" Realization practically crippled her as she stared over Gaster's shoulder.

"You'll have plenty of time to do that; and with how much he's willing to do, you'll have more to thank for as it is."

"B-But I- he must _hate_ me! I'm so rude and I've done nothing for him, yet he's thanked _me_, and… I'm just… not worth his efforts." She deflated, realizing she had no hope of being with him, not like she had any desire to as it was.

"Then why does he keep helping you?"

"I don't know… 'Cus you have to help me, and he's paying you back somehow?" He let out a boisterous laugh.

"He owes me nothing but my mulled wine and a good meal. We've established that centuries ago." _Oof, centuries. Way to date yourself._ "Why else would he help you?"

"I… I don't know…" Gaster sat the clipboard down on his desk, taking Clara's hands and eyes.

"Because he cares about you, Clara. He truly cares about you."

"But why?" He had to think about this for a moment.

"I suppose… it's because he sees you as worth caring about, worth fussing over, dowsing his hands in ice, giving up opening his pride and joy of a bar. Clara, he had not touched that pistol with an intent to knowingly use it in years. But he did for you." She tore her eyes from his white pupils, her hands from his to hold herself, and felt something rile up in her, but it wasn't emotion.

"He shouldn't…"

"You're going to deny that he has emotions? You're saying that he can't care about what he wants to care about?" Clara shoved her way from between him and the couch, retreating to the corner of the bookshelf and the wall.

"I'm saying that he shouldn't! I'm fucking broken, Gaster! You've read the reports, you've seen what he's done to me. I can't be fixed!" She pressed herself as tightly in the corner as possible, trying to not be visible again.

"But you can be."

"Don't fucking lie to me."

"And would Kyle have tolerated you talking back?" Fear struck across her face. "Exactly. You're already being fixed. You're falling out of these horrific habits he's forced you to do, habits that you know are not right. Come here, you're not a coat rack." He held his hands out, which she obediently took. "Do what you think is right. Think for yourself." Clara stared at his hands holding hers.

"How do I know what's what I want and what I was taught?"

"You'll know. And if it's not what you meant or wanted, then just apologize. That's all. Then revaluate what you think would be the thing that you would have meant or wanted. People like to see that you're trying to better a mistake, but they don't need to know your history. Alright?" She didn't respond, too busy taking everything in. "So, let's try it, yes?" She looked up as he let go of her hands. "If I were to greet you into my home, what would you do?"

"What would I do, or what should I do?"

"What would _you_ do, instinctually. Would you sit on the couch, leave your shoes on, start helping with something?"

"I guess… I'd thank them and wait by the door."

"Well, you're not really in the house then, now are you? People invite you in for your company."

"I'd… see if they wear their shoes in the house or not?"

"Good, that's courteous. What else, where would you go, what would you do?"

"I'd offer to help if they're making food?"

"And if they say no?"

"Um… I don't know…" Gaster nodded.

"I've got an idea. How about we actually do just that? I'm sure my sons would love to meet you!" Clara suddenly wanted her corner back.

"Uh… N-No, thank you."

"I insist!" Now she couldn't turn him down. "But for now," he glanced at his watch. "Relax a bit, I must go grab something." Clara started looking around her after he left. Had she been inhospitable in his office? The office was one room with one person. His house must be huge what with his wealth, and has at least three people, being that he said 'sons'…

Trying to comprehend what was supposed to be proper hospitality, she sat back down. Maybe she could find a book, being she no longer had internet access. Grillby owns a bar, he'd know plenty about that. The door opened again, Gaster returning with an IV stand. She watched as he set it up beside the couch, placing another beige bag at the apex of it.

"May I?" Not like she had a choice. He took her tube and attached it, letting the fluid flow freely into her. She couldn't feel it, but she did feel the depression it gave her. "Try to cheer up a little, dear." His words were in vain, which he was expecting.

Time passed as the bag slowly drained into her, something that she tried to ignore. She sat there, unfeeling, unmoving, mindless. She had no more world, and her eyes reflected this. Occasionally, the doctor would ask how she felt, always getting 'tired' as a response. He's seen this stare dozens of times, but it still scares him. He knows that they're listening to that voice. An hour or so later, Gaster disconnected the tube.

"Clara, when was the last time you went to the bathroom?" That was an odd question, but she could not recall the answer. Not today, she couldn't recall if she had yesterday…

"Um… I don't know…" Gaster tried to hide his disappointed sigh.

"Alright…"

"Why?"

"That means that your body is absorbing every little thing it's being given. It's desperate for anything and everything that it's not letting anything go to waste. It's not like this feeding solution is going into your blood stream, your digestive system is still processing it. All of this…" He held up the empty bag before tossing it into a hazardous waste receptacle. "… is needed, and clearly more of it if your body isn't excreting any of it." He knelt in front of her, getting to eye level. "Clara, don't you see? This is how desperate your body is. That's close to three liters in two days alone. You're not well. I know you've been eating, and I'm so proud of you for that. But just eating isn't going to mean anything if you're still mentally absorbed in this…"

"I'm not… as much as before." The words were bitter and like sludge to her, feeling like she was betraying herself. Betraying that voice.

"How do you know that?" It was a genuine question.

"Grillby talked to me… He said to replace _her_ with him…" The scientist pondered this a moment, wondering if it was the right choice. It was most certainly not his place to make that suggestion, and it could have been damaging. He will need to keep a close eye on how dependent she is on him. She is able to be separated from him, which is promising. Looking at how calm she was told him otherwise about his worries, so he accepted this.

"Do you prefer that?"

"I guess. I think so." Absent mindedly, she rubbed her hand under her shirt to her opposite side to scratch an itch, brushing up against her concaved stomach. The way her loose skin folded down froze her hand, a deafening ringing in her ear. She was still fat. _There is still fat. He is making you fat._

"Clara, look at me."_ Don't look at him._ "I need you to look at me, please!" _I'm here, it's alright, shh. Why is he taking my hands?_ "Shit…" _What's wrong?_ The ceiling stared at her as she was lied down. "Wake up, come on back, Clara." She was awake, she could see. She wasn't asleep. _He's not going to let you leave. _

With a rush of adrenaline, Clara tucked her head against herself, grabbing at her head, rocking as Gaster tried to secure her hands. "Don't do that, calm down, Clara. You're alright, I'm right here, everything's okay. You need to breath." _Don't touch me… Don't let him touch you! Shh, it's going to be alright. I'm here… I'm here. I'm always here, Ana is always here… Shh…_ The adrenaline lasted nearly a minute, Gaster trying to keep her from digging her nails in, until it died away, dopamine lulling her to slump against the rocking doctor. "There you go, it's alright." _I'm here…_ Cracked whimpers bubbled from Clara's throat. When did the tube's tape come off? Was she being held? It felt nice… She was so tired… "Shh, I'm here. Sleep if you want, get some rest."

Gaster was glad to see that she did after a while. Having such little energy due to close to no food for so long takes its toll, as did the apparent panic attack she just had. Tucking her in with the blanket he had, he was reminded that she was a patient. She was someone he had to make sure lived through this, and never returned back to his office again. It was starting to become hard for him to imagine that. She had always been a meek, frail thing. Imagining her healthy was… a tribulation on his mind, and he was not sure as to what approaches to take anymore. Yes, Grillby helped, but he was not a doctor, and she could not rely solely on him. She needed to trust him the way she did with his friend. He stepped out of the study for a moment.

"Sorry to bother you at work, Grillby."

"Calls from you are either entertaining or depressing, and I doubt it's the former."

"Yes, well… I actually need your advice."

"I… mine? You're the doctor, here."

"I know… But she doesn't trust me as much as she does with you. Well, she trusts me, but it's like everything you say to her, she internalizes. How do you do that?" The elemental had to laugh.

"That's not my doing, Gaster. I just listen and do what I can." The image of Clara's form popped back into his head, and suddenly it was clear to him. The only reason she trusted Gaster at all…

"Grillby…"

"Yeah?" There was a sense of dread in their voices.

"Am I… Does she only trust me because I'm… you know…"

"Gaster, your race has nothing to do with this, and she understands that." The seriousness crackled over the receiver.

"But what if I'm what she wants to be?" He was looking for anything and everything to dance around the reality of Clara's case, something that he had never done before.

"You're not. Clara doesn't know what she wants. Therefore, we both need to tell her and teach her what it is that she _should_ want. Like that voice she talked about. You've never gotten like this before with any other patients. Are you alright, G?" The brief moment of thinking he was at fault passed. Gaster made a large mental reminder to get more sleep.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I just… don't worry about it. And I've tried telling her that, Grillbz, but she just keeps recessing back. It was different with other patients, I never got… attached." He had to whisper this, so no potential passer-by heard. It was not a bad thing to be attached to a patient, but it was highly unrecommended. "I don't get it." He sat and slumped against the wall in the hallway. A few colleagues mouthed an 'are you okay' before being waved off. "I almost rather when she fights with me. Her obedience can be… unsettling. I was considering taking her to my home for lunch with the boys, but what if she has another panic attack?" Grillby took note to the 'another' part.

"Then you deal with it. We risked that when we went clothes shopping. Keeping her cooped up will only frustrate her more. She does enjoy interacting with people, especially women. Maybe the boys can help ease her into being around men more. Might want to have a word with Paps about being calm first, though…"

"Maybe if you came, she'll b-"

"This is your side, Gaster. I can't be holding her hand the entire process, literally. I'll be there for her when she needs me, but if I do that all the time, I will only make her dependent. You know that."

"Yes, I know… I just… She's so happy around you." Gaster was glad to see that Grillby was aware of a very clear line between helping and coddling. The bartender could be heard putting something down.

"She's not."

"I-wha- yes, she is! It's obvious. I see the way she listens to your stories, how she watches you cook."

"She's gotten upset at me recently, she's clearl-"

"Just because she's upset doesn't mean that she's not glad to be around you. I told you, she's going to have days like that. Some might be only a moment, some might be morning to night. It's not directed at you; she's scared and aggravated and confused. You're her world, Grillby." Grillby took some time to comprehend that.

"She's got a pretty shitty world, then…"

"Do I need to arrange another set of therapy sessions, Grillber-"

"No, no, stop it… I just wish she wouldn't have to see those sides of me, where I'm broken."

"You know, she used the same word to describe herself… You two have a lot in common, in regard to how you think and handle things. Perhaps that's why you're so compatible with her." The double entendre of 'compatible' made Grillby glad this was a phone call, where he could not be seen. "I think you're right, I'll take her for lunch with the boys at my place. And, Grillby?"

"Huh, sorry, yes?"

"Thank you. You're always good for talking things over with."

"Doctor-friend privileges got turned around, huh?" Gaster laughed at this.

"Indeed, they have. Thank you, my friend."

"Anytime."

**Author's Notes: I am not a fan of this chapter... There is a lot of small seeds that I had to plant that for later here, and it all seemed kinda cheesy. Also, gee, I wonder who Clara is crushing on -_- ... There were also so many wartime backstories I wished I could elude to here!**

** I won't be adding in much about Clara's abuse from here on out. I don't know much about domestic abuse on the mental side, and it is not the main focus of the story. If people want, I will add a little thing in on the side stories I am working on. I want to elaborate on Clara's panic attack. Her thoughts are meant to be switching between her true thoughts, her Ana voice, and her Grillby voice. It's like her mind can't pick a side, thus causing this entropy.**

** On another note, are you ready for some SkellyTime!? Writing the bros was SO FUN, and I really love the next chapter! I also -adore- the father sons dynamic that I created! **

**Stay Safe, Lovelies!**


	14. Chapter 14: Entropy

Chapter 14: Entropy

Pulling up, Clara was a little surprised to see an all wood house. Among the two stories was a porch outlined with holiday lights, and an abhorrently large pirate flag billowing on the left peak of the roof. Meanwhile, the front lawn was well manicured, a complimentary stone path greeting anyone to come inside. There were signs of a possible garden around the corner. Absolutely none of it made sense. The Maserati pulled in next to a red sports convertible and a moped. Gaster got out, a small smile on his face, explaining how he let his sons make one addition to the house's appearance. Clara followed closely behind with her hands folded neatly in front of her.

"My younger son, Papyrus, can be a little too friendly sometimes, so I must warn you." Unlocking the door, he stepped in and held it open for her. "Welcome to my home, Clara." Clara stepped in, but stayed next to the door. The doctor unceremoniously slipped his shoes off with a sigh, and Clara did so, but far more gently.

There was a blue and purple entwined rug coating the floor, horribly paired with a green couch and a black, leather recliner. These faced a flat screen. Straight ahead appeared to be a typical kitchen. On the left was a flight of stairs leading up to what seemed like three rooms. A few other commodities were around, of course; a lamp here, end table there, and… a rock on a plate? This did not seem like the home she had imagined this rather wealthy monster to have.

"Sans, Papyrus!" Gaster shouted through the house. He went and stood at the base of the stairs, but Clara stayed.

"Coming, Father!" A rather crass, nasally voice screeched from one of the rooms. The door on the left, covered in a plethora of paraphernalia, opened. Out came a lanky skeleton, nearly as tall as Gaster, dressed in a white crop top that said, "Surf's Up!" and a pair of daisy dukes. Clara had to do all she could to keep her face composed, meaning no emotion at all. Before descending the stairs, the brother went and knocked loudly on the door furthest right. "Sans, wake up! Father is home early, come say hello!" He turned and saw the silent woman by the door. "Oh goodness! My dearest apologies, I did not know we had a guest!" He clambered down the stairs, but Gaster held a hand up, which surprisingly was enough to coax the exuberantly enthusiastic monster to a halt. Papyrus's height nearly rivaled his father's.

"Now, Papyrus, our guest is a little sensitive to loud noises, so I will need you to keep that in mind, if you will?"

"Of cou-!" He held his hands to his mouth, realizing he was still shouting, he hunched his shoulders up and hissed a rather loud whisper. "Of course, Father!" With a gentle smile, Gaster stood aside and watched as his son tried his best to not rush the woman. "Greetings, Human, I am the Great Papyrus! It is a pleasure to meet you, will you be joining us for lunch? It is very rare for Father to come home so early, and with a guest!" His hand was outstretched. He spoke so formally, clearly an influence from Gaster. Clara met his hand, but was nearly bounced up and down as he pumped her arm to its full extent.

"Papyrus, easy!" Gaster gave a slight scold. Withdrawing his hand, the son gave a guilty smile and pat Clara's shoulder apologetically as Clara folded her hands again. Content, the scientist turned back to the stairs. "Sans! Now!"

"What'cha shouting for, Pops, I'm right here?" Clara practically screamed as she heard a low, but smooth voice come from her right side, where she had not been looking. He was rather stout, reaching just under Clara at 5'1". For a skeleton, he was rather… round. Or at least his blue, ragged hoodie was. He had on black basketball shorts and pink slippers. Seeing his footwear, Clara noticed that Papyrus had on red, high-top converses. Perhaps she should not have taken her shoes off… He had a lazy smile plastered onto his face. Both sons shared their father's white, pin-prick eyes.

"Sans, I have told you a thousand times now to_ not do that_! We have a guest, which I am quite positive you already knew before doing said action!" Gaster came over to join. "Sans, Papyrus, this is Clara. Clara, my sons, Sans and Papyrus." Giving a small nod, Clara did not make eye contact.

"Nice ta' meet'cha." Sans held a hand out, which she shook extremely gingerly. "Aw man, that's never not worked before." As Clara drew her hand back, a joy buzzer was wrapped around the small bones. She was so gentle that it did not go off.

"Sans!" The other two men exclaimed, but he just pocketed his hand with a laugh. Scoffing, Papyrus went into the kitchen as Sans went to the couch, turning the tv on. Gaster came over and turned it off, hiding the remote somewhere that Clara had not caught.

"We have a guest, no television." She knew that was not the reason. "Go help your brother." Nor was that. Finally finished wrangling his sons, Gaster noticed that Clara was still by the door and held out a hand to her with a smile. Walking up to him, she waited for further instruction. "Didn't we say we were going to try this out?" He whispered gently. It was one thing when it was hypothetical, and in his office, but now? "Go on…" He gave her a small nudge towards the kitchen. It was only now that she realized that she'll have to talk…

Slowly walking into the tiled kitchen, Clara waited to be noticed. But they didn't. Giving a look of helplessness to Gaster, she felt a chill as he just stood there, waving her on. So, she took another step in… another… stayed to the left wall so to be out of the way… and another.

"Oh, hello, Human!" Papyrus greeted again. Clara gave another shallow nod, examining the floor.

"Ya' know, kid, it's rude to not say 'hello' back." Sans said from on top of the counter. She was being rude. She knew better.

"Hello…" A dull pain etched its way into her lower abdomen again. She was told to sit whenever possible. Standing up so straight was child's play with her 'training,' but it did put a bit of strain on her back and abdomen. But she had to stay at attention. The boys swapped looks as Papyrus sat a hand on his hip bone.

"Human, something tells me that you are uncomfortable. Is everything alright? I understand that some humans are not used to monsters yet, but we assure you, you are completely safe here!"

"I-I have no problem with monsters, I apologize if I came off as such…" _Don't look, it's rude._ Gaster was standing in the doorway, but Clara could not tell, her back turned. He was analyzing, which Sans could tell with a single look.

"A'right, kiddo, so what'cha wanna do?"

"Anything you would like…"

"Well… ya' see, that's why I asked what you wanna do." Trying to keep her eyes from looking panicked, she scoured for an answer.

"I have no preference." _That's always a safe answer,_ she thought. Sans hopped off the counter and came closer, and Clara stayed, even with her shoulder twitching in protest.

"Aw, come on, kid, there's gotta be somethin' ya' wanna do? Anythin'." _Run, I want to leave and run away…_

"I apologize profusely, but there is not. I am sorry for disappointing you…" This took Sans aback, but had drawn Papyrus in.

"No need to apologize, Human! There is very little that can disappoint the Great Papyrus!" She has seen plenty of narcissists before, but yeesh… "Once the leftover pasta is ready, another meal of my famous spaghetti shall be eaten and enjoyed! Oh, I am so glad you and the Human are joining us, Father!" He said over his shoulder. Clara did not know he was there… Watching. She had failed him. She had made no improvement, and he saw it all. Disappointed, she hung her head a little lower. "Actually, Human, are you able to eat? I could not help but notice the tube." _Oh shit_… Somehow, Clara had forgotten too.

"She can eat, Papyrus, thank you for your concern." Gaster placed a hand on her shoulder, leading her to the table, being seated on one of the four sides. She was at a table in someone else's home… Usually she was not allowed to eat, therefore never sat down. Standing in the corner till called on just felt right, but the way her abdomen eased up said otherwise. Gaster sat next to her, giving her a small pat on the shoulder. There was a low table in the corner between their seats with random things like a newspaper and pens. Clara saw each puzzle in the paper completed, each one in a different handwriting. She recognized Gaster's on the sudoku.

"How is everything, boys?" Gaster turned his attention. Clara tuned out, fading her consciousness to cue in only if she was addressed, approached, or touched. The only thing she noticed was Gaster's sweater-ed arms sliding off the table, then a plate of red in front of her. Refocusing, she saw the spaghetti. It dawned on her she would have to eat this messy plate of food in front of her superior, as well as two strangers who were the family of said superior. Her hands started to shiver.

"Human, are you alright, you look almost as white as I am!" The large hand came towards her head, causing Clara to instinctually leap up from the chair and back away from the three. With the sudden jerk, she was not able to properly adjust to the pain, causing her legs to buckle, falling backwards. Bracing herself did nothing as she fell completely on her back, the wind being knocked out of her.

"Clara! Fuck!" Trying to reorient herself, she was met with the familiar blur of the doctor that started to cradle her. "Are you alright?"_ Be polite, you're fine, you're always fine, stand up and take it._

"M-My apolo-"

"Clara, stop that, are you okay?" Stop? She was being polite. Was she alright? Taking in her situation, she was not alright. The room was jostling a touch, she could barely breath, and the back of her head and hips felt like they were smashed with a hammer. An unintentional moan caused Gaster to flinch. He knew she was fragile from her state, but feared the worse, being a doctor. "What's wrong?" Giving up on her efforts to be polite, she slumped into his arms.

"My h-head and hip…" Realizing that he was leaning her directly on her hips, Gaster lifted her up, rushing to the couch, muttering to himself

"Damn it… I should have known better; I knew something was going to- fuck!" Placing Clara on her side, gently putting a pillow under her head, the doctor paced while worrying his head with his holed hands, tracking the cracks. Sans came up, trying to calm him.

"Pops, Pops, relax, just talk care of her."

"Sans, I-I can't, I shouldn't have- this is why I didn't want her to be with him, I knew something was going to happen, but it was on _my_ watch! I should have known, I should have been more careful. If I was ju-"

"Pops!" It was surprising how loud the smaller skeleton boomed, freezing the father, the plastered smile gone. "Do your job!" Gaster came back to reality, shooting over to Clara.

"Let me see…" But she did not have to do anything as he felt around her skull and hips. His single brow was drawn low and bothered. Slowly, Clara's breathing returned to normal, but she knew if she moved her head, the room would sway dangerously again. "Okay… I think you're alright…" He took Clara's hands. "Clara, I am so sorry, if I had known, I would have sat on the other side, I would have caught you. I'm so, so sorry!" Feeling minimal pain, Clara tried to slowly sit up. "N-No! Rest, please!"

"Pops, if she feels like she can sit, then let her. You said it yourself, she's fine." Hands still jittering, Gaster withdrew, only to help her sit up. "How do you feel?"

"I-I think I'll be okay. Just dizzy…" She said, leaning forward into her hands a little.

"See, she's good." Sans reassured him. When kneeling, Gaster was still tall enough to be even with his eldest. "That was a pretty nasty fall there, kid."

"S-Sorry… I just got a little startled." Sans gave a small genuine chuckle.

"Is that what you call 'a little?' Hate to see a lot." Solemnly, Gaster got up and left Clara with Sans, sitting back down at the kitchen table, his head in his hand and Papyrus leaning over his shoulder, saying something.

"Look, kid," Sans lowered his voice to a calm murmur. "You're a patient of my Pops, I get it. Whatever it is that happened, forget it. We ain't gonna hurt'cha." He sat next to her, causing a small flinch. "Ya' gotta excuse my old man, he can be a bit harsh on himself sometimes, but he always gets back on his feet. Don't gotta worry about him too much. Leave him ta' us." Finally feeling well enough, Clara raised her head, but second guessed herself just how hard she had hit her head. There was no way this guy was drinking ketchup. Blinking, she started to highly consider asking Grillby for some of his medication. "What?"

"Uh… N-Nothing, sorry for staring. I'm not entire back to myself yet."

"Heh, is that what ya' call that? Sure sounds like you're a robot then, and not the entertainment kind. Look, what are ya' actually into?" Sans turned to her a little, resting his arm over the back of the couch. Clara looked back, a little unsure.

"Uh… science?" She swore Sans grew deadpan, even if he kept smiling slightly.

"Heh, no wonder Pops took a likin' to ya.' Whenever he comes home, he's always sayin' stuff to himself about someone named Clara. Guess that's you, kid?" She shrugged. It wasn't like she would know; another Clara was not impossible. Looking over, Gaster now seemed more like his normal self, now sipping from a mug and talking to his other son more casually. Seeing Clara's gaze, he came over, Papyrus in tow.

"I'm sorry about that, Clara. Are you still feeling alright?" She nodded, and he sighed. "Good." The second brother came through, sitting on Clara's other side near the black recliner. Feeling calmer, the doctor leaned into his recliner and sipped from his mug again, his body language familiar. Him and Grillby really were like siblings.

"So, Human, I must know, should we call you 'mother' now?" Coffee suddenly spewed from behind Papyrus as Sans started bellowing with laughter. "Would you two behave, I am asking the Human a very important question! Now you are red, Human, I do not understand what is with your skin today. Are you part chameleon?" Gaster clambered over, coffee streaks down his jaw, and nearly dragged Papyrus back into the kitchen, leaving Sans crippled on the floor.

"Hah hah hah, oh stars, Paps, that was-was- ah hah hah hah! Oh-oh, it hurts!" He kept laughing… and laughing.

"Oh my goodness!" Papyrus shouted, rushing back into the room. "Human! I apologize, I did not realize that you were not dating Father!" Clara's eyes nearly fell out of her skull, with Sans now crying with laughter.

"Dating?" She yelled. "N-No, I would never date-I-I mean, not that there's anything wrong with your father, but I-I would nev-"

"Ah hah hah, make it stop, make it stop!" The floor begged. Gaster just gave up, flopping back into his chair, draping his arm over his eyes. Clara was beside herself. _This is… a mess. An absolute mess! I love this…_ Trying her best but failing, Clara started stammering out giggles, eventually doubling over herself as she fell into fits.

"Human, what is so funny? Sans, I demand that you stop this foolish nonsense this instant; look at what you are doing to the human." From the side, spits of snickers accompanied the others two in laughing. "Father, that is highly inappropriate." Leaning over, Gaster heartily continued, holding his sides.

"Fuck it, fuck it all!" He cheered to himself, throwing imaginary papers into the air. Seeing his father so joyous made the younger smile.

"F-Father, that is… r-rather… N-Nyeh… Nyeh heh heh heh!" Slowly starting to slip control, Papyrus was soon screeching above them all, arms akimbo and head back.

Breathlessly, the four slumped among the furniture, lagging giggles echoing occasionally after their episode. Gaster was the first to break.

"That was… not what I expect from today…" Reaching over, he placed a hand on Papyrus's shoulder.

"Nah, but it was nice…" Sans concurred, now on the couch. Clara nodded, half leaning on the stout monster, abandoning her 'training.' "You're not so bad, kid…" Sitting up a little, the patient gave him a shy smile.

"I do agree, but the Great Papyrus's spaghetti lunch is now cold!" But no one, including said chef, really cared all that much. From the kitchen, an abrasive buzzing interrupted the doctor's lazy stupor to go answer it.

"Yes? … Grillby? Yeah, she's here… No, it's no-" he checked his watch. "Oh… sorry, Grillbz… I didn't hear it… No, Grillby, I genuinely could not hear it… Well, why didn't you call the house phone? … Sans?" He called.

"Hm?"

"Where's the house phone?"

"Dog."

"Right…" Gaster pinched between his eyes. "I know, I know, relax… Geez, you sound like an overprotective mother… No need to shout… Ugh, fine, I'll be there in a little bit… Look whose talking… I'll see you in a little bit, Grillby, bye." Hanging up, Gaster retrieved his coat. "Come on, Clara, Mister Mother is waiting." Slowly untangling each of themselves, the three stood from the couch.

"Bye, it was nice to meet you." Clara said, giving them a soft smile. Sans closed one eye, offering a fist bump, which was accepted.

"Same here, kiddo."

"As well as here, Human!" Suddenly swooped up, Clara was embraced by Papyrus. Charmed by his innocence and kindness, she hugged him back. "Goodness, Human, you are so small! You must return and try my famous spaghetti You will feel better in no time!" He placed her down, and slowly went to pat her head. Seeing she did not flinch, he confidently continued.

"You will be back, won't you, Clara?" Gaster offered. She couldn't help but smile back.

"If that's okay…"

"Of course, Human!"

"Anytime, kiddo."

"It would be my pleasure." With that, he took her hand in his, departing.

Going to open Grillby's door and unlocking it, Gaster found it locked from the inside regardless of his spare key. After hearing something from the inside, it opened. Grillby loomed over his friend, positively, and literally, fuming as he let the two in. Clara was shocked, not only at how furious her guardian was, but at the house. Half the cabinets had locks, as did every window. All the doors in the house were in the far living room corner, minus the bathroom doors and Grillby's, which now had no doorknobs. It felt oddly silent and smelled of mechanical grease. Regardless of the lights being on, it was darker.

"Where were you, you said she'd be back every day by one, and it's three!" He yelled at the man.

"I told you, she was at my pla-"

"We had a deal. She is with me or you, and when I don't know where she is when she is supposed to be in my care, I have a right to be upset!" Clara inched up.

"Um… Grillb-"

"I always make sure I am by a phone, at all times now! But you have the gall to tell me you just 'didn't notice?' What if she got hurt, Gaster, huh? We had a _deal_!" The elemental shoved the doctor back.

"Stop this, Grillbert, you are being far too unreasonable right now! She is fin-"

"And how was I supposed to know that, Gaster? That last phone call was my final attempt before I was going to call Schnyder and Undyne! When I make a commitment, I stay with it, and you are beyond aware of that!" He jabbed a strong finger against Gaster's sternum. Something tugged at his arm. Looking down finally, he saw a sobbing Clara. "I… Clara… Oh, Clara, I'm sorry."

He went to hold her, but she ran towards his bathroom, slamming the door with no knob as she sat against it, bawling. He was like _him_. He resorted to screaming and violence. Regardless of it being good intentioned and not really harmful, it still brought back horrible memories. Calling and racing after her, Grillby wished the door opened the other way. He could have very well have just gently pushed her with the door and gotten in, but he promised he would not force her.

"Clara, I'm sorry, please let me in… I was just so worried. I didn't know where you were, I panicked, please, Clara…" She was surprised to see that he had not barged in, but was waiting patiently for her. "I wasn't upset with you. I didn't mean to scare you, really…" He didn't scare her, he never has. It was the memories that scared her. Did she make him think that she was scared of him, of all people? "Clara?" She slowly quieted down, hiccupping a few more tears.

Regretfully, Gaster watched from the bedroom doorway. He knew this was not truly his fault, and that the reason for not getting the calls resulted in a positive outcome between Clara and his sons; between her and two men she did not know in a strange environment. But even still, he still felt a touch of guilt.

Flinging the door open, Clara lunged into Grillby, starting to sob again. They both stood there, taking in each other's presence. Clara slipped her arms under his shirt to feel the flames on his back, and he soothed his hands over her head and shoulder and back in response.

"I'm so sorry, I'm here now. I'll never yell like that again, I promise. I promise, Clara. Everything will be okay, I'm here." Gaster silently slipped away, a low smile bidding them his leave. He will apologize to Grillby later. For now, they needed to be alone, just each other.

After a few minutes, Grillby collected Clara in his arms. Making his way over to the bed, he shoved the blankets aside and laid down, still holding Clara as he wrapped the covers around them. "I'm not leaving." He promised, placing his chin against her head. She contently sighed, still shuttering from crying, against his neck, his soul jerking. Grillby pondered a moment, before giving the top of her head a small kiss.

Clara turned her head up to face her guardian. Fearing he crossed a line, his brows arched apologetically, that is till she returned back to her spot, nestling in closer. His soul practically clawed its way out of his chest, a small yellow glow illuminating hers. She didn't notice, her eyes closed. Grillby smile, truly, giving her head another kiss, this one longer and with more intention. He knew what this was, and he was not about to let it go. For once in his ancient life, he felt what he'd been missing out on for all those years; the same things Gaster felt for his sons; the same thing his mother had felt for him; the same thing Clara had been betrayed of.

"I love you, Clara." He held her as close and gently as he could. She placed her hand on his chest, now opening her eyes to see his soul shining from under her hand. She felt warm, wanted, …like she could be selfish. She grabbed his shirt above his soul, as if to feel what he felt. She shifted down and placed her cheek against the light, which glowed brighter as she did, Grillby's breath hitching a moment. Slowly, she came back up to his face. A small smile spread across her face as she felt his cheek. The smile dropped to a worry. "I'm sorry, I know this is… way too soon. Pretend I said nothing, okay?" He held her hand and went to pull it from his cheek, but she pulled it right back, shaking her head. Exhausted and confused, Grillby didn't know what to make of this. Still looking worried, she placed her forehead to his, brows tightening.

With a burst of determination, she placed her lips flat to his, staying there in a faux kiss for a second. Slowly, she actually kissed him. Pulling away no more than a second later, seemingly having startled herself, she looked into his eyes. All he could do was look back. Did he accidentally push her? Did she feel obligated to kiss him? Her mouth hung open in a frown, but it perked at the edges.

"I…" Her voice was badly damaged, hissing and creaking from sobbing. "Is that… I feel like… I just did that for the first time." She started grinning till she looked like a stereotypical schoolgirl as she looked away. Hope spread across Grillby's face. Turning his head slightly, he ran his thumb across her cheek, turning her back to him.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." He clarified. "You'll never be forced into something you don't want." He tried not to look at her lips eagerly, but it did not matter. She leaned back in, fully kissing him. Easing himself into the kiss, his chest swelled. Her lips tightened, a smile breaking the kiss as she started giggling.

"Is that what it's supposed to feel like?" She whispered. Grillby smiled back.

"Yes. That's the only way it should feel." They lay there, hands on each other's cheeks, slowly seeping into sleep, occasionally broken by Clara giving him another kiss and giggling, in turn causing Grillby to.

"Grillby?"

"Mm?" He replied, his eyes still closed.

"Does this mean I'm in love?"

Grillby opened his eyes, suddenly unable to answer her question. Something was wrong with his eyes. He looked around a moment, realizing that his eyes were just fine. A dim lavender glow shown against his yellow chest. Sucking in and holding his breath, he let tears fall as he pulled Clara closer against him.

"Yes." Clara began crying in turn, grabbing the back of his shirt, but still laughing. "I love you…" Grillby sobbed.

"I-I love you too!" She laughed, pulling away to look at him. "I think I finally know what that really feels like now." She kissed him deeply, pulling his head close. "And I never want to forget that…" Resting her head next to his, she contently looked to him, gratified tears running down her face. Her soul continued to occasionally pulse brighter, till she slowly drifted into sleep. After several minutes of joyous disbelief, Grillby joined her.

**Author's Notes: You know, only took 14 chapters for the obvious to occur... I had initially written for this to happen way, way back on the night when Clara had a panic attack at Williams', but I did what I had never done before, and deleted a massive part of my writing. It is painful, but I made up for it! How will Gaster react? Does he too have feelings for this woman who he has become attached to? Will he be happy that his friend has finally found love? Or will he just not give a rat's ass? **

** Sans and Paps are ****_so fun_**** to write! As well as Gaster and his sons' relationships! The sons are very close with their father, and they all look out or each other. After Gaster sit down after the panic attack, Paps is calming him down in ways that Sans cannot. The same way that Sans brings Gaster back to the present in ways Paps cannot. **

** There is a little seeping here of some of Grillby's issues. He has gone through so many deaths in his life that his mind often will go to the worst. It also doesn't help that he clearly had feelings for Clara. Having been a general in the war, he watched as his men died, and...**

**Gaster: You want to explain it so badly, don't you?**

**Please?**

**Grillby: And ruin the past as to why I'm a psychotic mess? Gee, I wonder if it's worth it... **

**Gaster: You're not a psychotic mess, just... mentally chaotic.**

**Grillby: Thanks, Doc. You sure know how to make me feel better... **

**Stay Safe, Lovelies! **


	15. Chapter 15: Rose Gardens

Chapter 15: Rose Gardens

***WARNING: Mention of death and heavy talk about anorexia nervosa. Skip to Author's Note for a summary.* **

Gaster was a patient man, so he waited for his friend to call him back that night; meanwhile, picking at his son's dinner, made special for him. True, Gaster was not home much, but he hardly saw a reason to make it special. Perhaps because he brought over a guest? Papyrus was an enigma to even his father; then again, as was Sans.

"Ya' alright there, Pops? Thought you were one for settin' examples." Looking up, Gaster realized that he had made quite the mess of his plate, noodles broken and the destroyed meatballs basically maked it more of a Bolinas sauce. He decided to ignore Sans's quip about his patient.

"Sorry, Sans…"

"Don't apologize to me." He nudged his head towards Papyrus, who was trying to not look hurt at the absolute entropy of a 'dinner.'

"I'm sorry, Papyrus… It's nothing to do with you or your lovely meal, I promise." _Ugh, I'm starting to sound like Grillby_. Papyrus smiled all the same.

"That's alright, Father!" And with that, Gaster was back to worrying. Sans was about to rip his old man's hand and foot off with the incessant tapping.

"Maybe ya' ought ta' call it a night…" Sans only worried about two people in this world; of course, his baby brother was his top source of worry, but Gaster was a pretty close second. It's not exactly difficult to spot his father's constant exhaustion when he clocked out at the drop of a hat, nor the stress from his midnight pacing sessions, nor the worry when he wouldn't stop that damn tapping, and clearly was not listening! Sans got up, took away his dad's plate, and shoved his hands in his pockets with a stern look.

"Don't use my own look against me, Sans, I gave you that look."

"Then you know what it means…" The doctor sighed. When Sans spoke properly, he was serious.

"I still have work to d-"

"I don't care, it can clearly wait if you're here, doin' nothin' but staring at a blank phone. If you're waiting on a call, just call them."

"I can't just call, Sans, that's not how this works." Still staring where his plate had been, Gaster had not noticed Sans pulling out his own phone.

"Then I'll call. It's Grillby, ri-" Sans and his phone were ripped apart. Oh, now he did it. Sans was furious at his own father for using blue magic on him, separating him from his phone. He bowed his head to hide his blackened sockets. No one touched Sans like that without his permission… "Heh… Pops…" Gaster dropped his grip on him, but brought the phone over and pocketed it.

"I'm sorry, Sans, but this is an extremely delicate situation. I can't risk it being compromised…" He did not know if it was or was not delicate, but his head was going so fast he could not keep up with all the 'what ifs' he had. Huffing, Sans starting to walk out. He was not really mad at his old man, but more of the situation. He stopped at the door, talking towards the living room.

"Ya' know I worry about'cha, right?" Gaster felt let down immediately. His sons should not need to worry about him; yet here they both were, in front of him, worrying. But he remained silent, shamefully unable to look at his sons. "Don't worry, part'a my job." Sans gave a small smile, one that remembered the late nights were his dad would come home well into the early morning. A smile that remembered how hard his dad tried to play with and raise his sons, all the while trying to raise the Underground up from nothing. A smile that forgave the few times his dad lost his temper. After all of that, how could Sans not worry about his dad from time to time. Papyrus was no longer a child, and his father was no longer risking his life on idiotic experiments. Papyrus was now the lone member of the Royal Guard, and his father had retired as the royal scientist to work as a medical scientist and doctor. But he still worried. "Night, Pops. Night, Paps…"

Having given up on his dinner, Gaster set Sans's phone in front of his door and retired to his own room, phone set to max volume and charging. There was no way he was going to jeopardize this call because he fell asleep. And yet… Flinging up, he scrambled to find his phone and glasses. _Damn it, when did I fall asleep?_ Groping around, he was able to to find his spectacles that had managed their way under the blankets and to his hip; then he turned to find his phone that was probably in an equally absurd hiding place.

"No, no, come one, don't go to voice mail!" Flipping the sheets off the bed, he heard a thump as the screaming, buzzing bastard hit the ground. "Hello, yes?" He completely forgot to see who it was. It was one of his coworkers. "Yeah, I'm at home… Yes, Tony Ransen, I know her. She's in room 36-… what? No… But she was… You're sure this is Ransen? They have the-… Oh… stars, please tell me you're wrong…" Fighting hard, the doctor felt the need to scream, yet he could only whisper. "No, please wait, I need to see her before you… you know… please."

Gaster looked down on the hospital bed, motionless.

"She was… she was getting better. She was eating, gaining weight. She wanted this to stop!" His voice grew in desperation, before it dropped. "What happened?" The male nurse next to him placed a hand on his shoulder, moving past him to place the covers back over the face.

"Heart failure." A muffled sob tugged in the back of his superior's throat. "Doctor Gaster, I know you had hopes for her, but we all know the statistics." He did all he could to console the slowly deteriorating doctor, decided it was best for him to not be here right now. The body had to be moved. Leading him out, they went down the hall to the common room and break room. Before the nurse could even close the door, Gaster fell to his knees, clutching at his soul.

"Damn it… fucking damn it…" He could not sob, but tears wept so fiercely that they spilled onto the old rug. "I saw her today, this morning. She was fine, walking around, she laughed… Fucking why?" The nurse merely knelt next to him, offering to console him. His timeline did not make sense, but the nurse did not correct him. Gaster took all his patients seriously, and knew more than anyone of just how vulnerable they were. Gaster was their protector, and to some, a savior. But this time, he had failed.

Tony Ransen, this young woman who loved video games and YouTubers and Japanese food, was dead. Ana claimed another.

"I wish I could blame myself… blame anything…" Gaster continued as the nurse soothed his back. There was nothing to blame. Her heart was weak due to what would be lifelong complications. He just wished she had a chance to see that musical that she loved so much. The nurse helped Gaster to his feet, walking him into the bathroom. The doctor leaned his head down under the running water, staying there just long enough to have his colleague wonder if a skeleton can drown. Coming back up, he went to sit on one of the couches, not caring about how his sweater was getting wet from the dripping water.

"The other patients will find out eventually, Doctor Gaster. They will look to you for guidance."_ Ah, yes, Regina was Tony's best friend in this hellish place_, Gaster thought.

"I worry for them…" Gaster whispered. "Regina's almost bound to relapse when she hears… Whinny probably will ignore me, Angelica will probably cry for days, Robin will… probably try to hurt himself…" A fleshed hand fell onto his knee.

"We'll be there for them, Doctor Gaster, that's why they're here." Gaster sniffed in response.

"And you guys? You all knew her too, Henry." Henry bowed his head a little, trying to remain composed in order to help someone who needed his company right now.

"Yes, we all knew her… We're all in mourning… But we have to be there for them. They're lives are at risk, not ours." The scientist had to smile at this.

"You've always been so good to them… You're always there, listening to anything and everything they want to say, whether it'll help them or not… Sometimes I want you to take my place just because of that." He chuckled a little, slowly coming out of his fog.

"I'm just… understanding, is all." Henry blushed a little at the compliment.

"Humane is more like it." They shared a smile as another nurse walked in. Not wanting to create a scene with his face that screamed 'I was bawling my eyes out just a few second ago,' Gaster took out his phone and lowered his head. "It's 6:50!" Shooting to his feet, he clamped a hand over his mouth, looking between the two nurses. So much for not creating a scene. How, in the name of Toriel, had he not noticed that the sun was up on his way over here? "S-Sorry!" But Henry just laughed.

"Not the first time, you've slept in. But you work yourself too hard, perhaps you should go get some more rest." Oh, how he wanted to.

"N-No, it's fine. I need to deal with the death repor-"

"You are not the only person who can do that. Please, Doctor Gaster, you are beyond exhausted." Sighing, and secretly glad that he did not need to do the death report, Gaster bid a goodbye with a deep hug to each of them, trudging his feet to his car. Looking over the parking lot, he caught sight of Clara's car, untouched since the day he met her. Something in him pulled his body over to it, looking into the old thing. There sat her decimated notebook in the front seat, bits of paper sticking out everywhere. A blanket was splayed in the backseat, and several tools in the very back. She was to be his apprentice, if she so wanted… He had many, but she would be something extraordinary. Feeling a sense of protection, Gaster raced to his car and sped down the road.

The door was unlocked. Grillby never left his door unlocked. Barging in, Gaster checked Clara's room. Nothing. Bathroom, living room, and kitchen, nothing. Clambering to Grillby's door, he flung it open.

"Fucking hell, Gaster, could you fucking knock?" Shouting expletives, Grillby clung onto Clara from the both of them being started, and one of them thoroughly embarrassed.

"You're okay…"

"Yeah, we're fine. What the hell?" Still irked by the intrusion, Grillby discreetly brought the sheets closer to his neck, which Clara hid her face in. Finally relaxing, Gaster panted a sigh.

"Sorry, I just… What were you two doing?" He only just realized that Grillby was shirtless, with Clara lying against his chest…

"Sleeping, you pervert." Both of the two in bed were blue and red from the notion of them possibly doing that.

"I would hope so. Come along, Clara, we have your session to get on with."

"Could we actually wake up first?" Gaster knew better than to needlessly wake a sleeping elemental, and from the looks of it, an elemental with a certain clinging nature. Clara finally braved to look over the covers, but only looked up to the fire monster. Returning to look, Grillby couldn't maintain his anger, a smile seeping before it was pulled away with his head. Gaster was still there, watching rather intently. The man had a horrible love of gossip, and at the moment, they were the headlines. "Well?" Now Gaster smiled, but it was smug and dark.

"Yes?"

"Could you not look like a creep?"

"I could… But no." He could, but he wanted to stay with Clara, make sure she was alright. He made a mental note to give her a cardiogram… Groaning, Grillby was about to give up and get out of bed, but stopped. Something felt odd, and upon realizing that he must have kicked his pants off in the middle of the night, he suddenly wanted to push Clara away. Gaster wasn't leaving… Clara was right there. There's no way Gaster would believe that they were just sleeping… It wasn't just his pants, it was everything. Glancing at his feet, the pile of clothes could be mistaken as jumbled up sheets. The two stared at the wide-eyed man. "Grillby, are you alright?" Make that two cardiograms.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I just got a Charlie horse. Clara, can you go help Gaster make breakfast? I wanna go wash up first." _Wash up from what? That just screams of suspicion!_ But she complied, only to stop to clutch her stomach. Grillbt reached over and held her hand, silently asking.

"Pain…" She was due for her pain medication, and she usually couldn't move much without it. Regardless, she slowly scooted off the bed and to Gaster, who met her halfway. Hearing the two in the kitchen, Grillby shot up and made a beeline for the bathroom. Thanks to the emulsified water, Grillby hopped into the shower. The solution made his flames spurt in content sparks, and released his fear of embarrassment. He could not help small laughs as he remembered last night, blushing blue.

"Clara, dear, could you go get Grillby, he's been in there for a while." She felt better than most days, medication or not, but still took her time with small strides till the medication set in. The bedroom door was still open, but the bathroom door was ajar, unable to stay closed with no doorknob. Curiosity peaked in her like a kitten as she looked through the hole from a distance. Just a bathr-_oom!_ Grillby had just stepped into view, habit and all, causing Clara to retreat back into the hall, knocking on the open door._ I saw nothing, I saw nothing, I saw nothing, I saw nothing…_ She only saw his rear, but that was enough to make her flee in humiliation. She's seen his behind before, what with the whole post-hug-robe incident, but she had not really paid attention then.

"One sec." He echoed from the unsecured room.

"Breakfast!" And she was gone, scurrying away to the breakfast nook. She must have looked like a flustered mess, and she knew Gaster noticed. A few minutes later, the clothed elemental came in to find a basic breakfast laid out of eggs, toast, and juice.

"Morning, Clara, which I meant to say before, but I was _rudely_ preoccupied." He fluffed his head with a towel, causing his flames to flash in every direction imaginable. "Gaster."

"Grillby… You're coming with us today, by the way."

"Wha- why?" A mix of shock and concern as he sat next to his… he had to admit it, his love. He didn't care if Gaster saw him touch the small of Clara's back.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Clara and Grillby looked to each other as Clara rather willingly ate.

"It's really not." Grillby countered. Gaster groaned.

"Listen here, love birds, I want to-"

"We're not in love." Clara deadpanned, but gave Grillby a thumbs-up from under the nook, seeing her game.

"G, what are you on about?" The doctor stood there, one hand outstretched.

"I… Oh, come on! You mean to tell me that you haven't told her yet?" Clara flinched as Grillby let off a heatwave, which moved her hair a little.

"Gaster…" Everything grew silent as the baritone glowered at the doctor. "May I speak with you?" He enunciated each word. Even if Grillby had not confessed last night, what Gaster had just implied would have. The disloyalty of their unspoken silence on the matter ticked off the elemental. Slumping into his shoulders, Gaster nearly squeaked a reply.

"N-No…"

"Gaster… May. I. Speak. With. You?"

"W-Why not here?" Grillby was truly terrifying, and had it not been for his gentle hand on Clara's back, she would be turning turtle as Gaster was.

"Fine. If you are so stubborn… Clara is my ward, as she is yours. I care for her, and care about her." Gaster was reminded of the young woman. "I would never let her get hurt." Unless it was out of his control… "But that does not mean that I would be inhospitable towards her." He remembered how Henry covered her face… "She was scared and lonely last night…" She died alone… "…so I let her sleep with me." Alone and scared… "We are not 'love birds,' Gaster. We are good friends, yes, but nothing more…" Grillby was met with silence. "Gaster?" She'll never see her friends again, never taste that food she loved so much, the only think she ever ate unprompted, never be with her family for holidays, never see that musical…

"I… I think I need to… go…" Hazed and stiff, Gaster began to abandon the two, but was held back, turning to find Clara looked up to him. "I-I have work… And…" He sighed, releasing a hint of tension. "And… you are my work… Grillby, I think I need to-to talk…" Grillby knew this state. It was a rare one, but powerful. Scared, but motivated. Defeated, yet driven.

"Of course. Clara, could you perhaps go on and get ready for the day?" Seeing the hint, she took her leave. "Who?" Gaster allowed Grillby to walk him to the couch, facing each other.

"T…" Grillby knew some of the patients who Gaster cared for, but only by codenames, to keep privacy. Even knowing so little, Grillby knew this 'T' meant something to Gaster.

"I… you said they were getting better. They were going to leave soon…" Gaster nodded slowly. "How?"

"Heart failure." He spoke as though his own heart was about to do the same. "She was too far gone before. I'm sure she'll show signs of heart disease in her… her autopsy…" He choked on the last word, a sob breaking through as he leaned his head against the elemental's shoulder.

"Gaster, I… I'm so sorry… I know T meant a lo-"

"Tony… Her name was Tony…"

"Tony…" He repeated. "She sounded like a fighter… Gaster, please don't go back to the labs, you need to give yourself some tim-"

"But does Clara?" Grillby froze, holding onto the other's shoulders. "Did you ever read that information that I gave you?" He sounded so distant, disembodied.

"Y-Yeah…"

"Do you remember the long-term effects?" He had not, shaking his head. Gaster spoke mechanically. He's given this talk far too many times. "… Osteoporosis, anemia, infertility, lower brain function, depression, anxiety, auto-immune issues, peripheral neuropathy, diabetes, seizures, organ failure, heart disease… suicide…" Grillby slowly nodded. They all sounded… painful… horrible… final.

"Do what you need to, Gaster." The doctor sat up, wiping his eyes.

"It's not something I can stop if it's already there. Over half of those are permanent, a constant threat every day of their life. If she already has those… All I can do is help her cope…"

"Could you check? Check for those things? Gaster, she's… she's been at this for two years…"

"I know… I'll do what I can…" Resigned, he pulled away and leaned his shoulder on the back of the couch. Grillby didn't move.

"I haven't been depressed in a while…" Gaster grew cold. She had been there… But for how long? "A-And I still get my periods sometimes… That counts, right? And I haven't gotten sick in a while." She was skittish and desperate for answers. She was scared. The doctor faced her now.

"Yes, all those things do count… Do you mind if we test for the others?" Clara eagerly shook her head, complying with their wishes. Grillby couldn't bear it anymore, going up and kissing Clara deeply, desperate to keep her there with him, not daring to take his eyes from her.

"I'm sorry, Gaster. I lied… I am… very much in love…" The two were not expecting to hear slow clapping from the couch.

"About. Fucking. Time."

**Author's Notes: So this chapter got pretty real. Unfortunately, this is the reality of this disorder. Most severe survival cases are not without a quid pro quo or two. In Tony's case, she basically had been brought back from the dead by Gaster. I took out a ****_lot _****in regards to her struggles, so to keep it more oriented on Clara. I had to sacrifice a lot of reality that I wished to shed light on in order to do that.**

**The chapter title refers to the phrase "I never promised you a rose garden," meaning that it won't be easy. It is also a very heavy, but interesting book, for those into psychology! **

** As to Gaster's last line... Yeah, Gaster can read Grillby like a book, and vice versa. He was referring to both the two of them getting together, and about it taking 2,523 years for Grillby to get a gal/guy/non-binary partner (not like he's one to talk)! **

**Also, Grillby booty :3**

**I promise, the next chapter is going to be a bit lighter... mostly.**

**Stay Safe, Lovelies! **

***Summary: Gaster waits impatiently for Grillby or Clara to call him back. Sans worries about his dad overworking himself. Gaster gets a call from the hospital/labs, and finds out a patient who was close to being released has died due to anorexia nervosa complications. Everyone on the staff had some sort of relationship with this wonderful woman. Gaster begins to think about Clara, and worries about her condition. Gaster barges into Grillby's house and finds him and Clara snuggling. They decide to keep their love confession to themselves. Gaster becomes visibly upset, and spills what happened to Grillby. He explains the permanent and temporary complications of Clara's disorder. Clara overhears by accident, and agrees to undergo tests to be sure that she does not have any lifelong complications. Grillby confesses their love to Gaster. Gaster saw it coming miles away (as did everyone else)***


	16. Chapter 16: Speechless

Chapter 16: Speechless

As much as Gaster enjoyed seeing his friend finally in love, it was already sickening… Grillby refused to leave her side, always holding on to her in some way. Even though Clara was clearly fine, he felt the need to keep asking. Gaster hoped that Clara knew what she was getting herself into with this guy.

Instead of heading up to his office, he led them to the medical wing, flinging on a lab coat. Clara couldn't help but notice how quiet it was for ten in the morning. No one spoke. For her visiting experiences, hospitals and clinics were always loud and there was always someone crying. Being led into one of the dozens of copies of rooms, the doctor had his patient lie on the bed again, only for Grillby to sit next to her.

"You do know you'll only be in the way, right Grillbz?" He picked up a blank clipboard from the bed's foot, starting to scribble. As the elemental chose to be in a chair flesh against the bed, someone knocked on the door. "Yes?"

"Doctor Gaster… Their parents are here." Staring, Gaster nearly dropped the clipboard in his loss for words.

"A-Ah, yes… um… I-I'll… I'll be there in a few minutes…" With a shaking hand, he put the clipboard back, his eyes not seeing. Steeling himself with a breath, he left. "I have something I need to do. Please wait here…" Heading to the small waiting room near the nurses' station, he saw a man and a woman. Both were shivering, the man's head in his shaking hands was met with the woman's. She stared off at the floor.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ransen…" He stood before them, his hands folded in front of him. They looked up as though he was not real. "Let's talk in my office, please. This is not the place." He held his hand out, but they refused, getting up themselves. In his office, they sat on the couch the same way they did in the waiting room. Gaster sat in his chair, lowering to their level. "I am sorry… I… I am _truly_ sorry. I know there is nothing I can say to make this situation any better. What happened was unpredictable and uncontrollable…" He waited, but they stayed silent. Not even a sniffle. "Her condition was too advanced. And even though she was making amazing strides, we cannot reverse a permanent condition. I wish, with every part of me, that I could. Your daughter… gave everyone here so much hope, and she still does. Other patients have told me that they will live on for her. I know that this is hard to comprehend right now bu-"

"So, she's still helping, even now?" The husband finally raised his head, the bags under his eyes nearly purple from crying. The comment made Gaster smile a touch.

"Yes, absolutely. She brought so much joy to the others. Even at her worst, she found a way to make them laugh. She couldn't bear to see others in pain."

"She always was like that, huh?" The mother's voice was deep and husky. "Always talking about helping…"

"If… If you would like," Gaster continued. "I would like to create a small memorial here for her. I spoke with the other staff who had helped her, and they all have some kind of beautiful story about her. And clearly, she's made a positive impact on those who were in need of her. Do you know what that means to them, for her to have helped them?" The parents now looked to him. "Your daughter has saved lives. She has given these people a new chance. Yes, doctors and nurses are all necessary, but when someone in the same boat as you reaches out, it's completely different. She was like everyone's therapist, their best friend. She was an amazing woman." He had to fight to keep from tearing up, but to no avail. The man stood up from under his wife's weight. Not knowing why he was just standing there, Gaster stood as well. "Mr. Ransen, I understand this is pro-" Arms grabbed around the doctor, nearly crushing him as the man broke into sobs.

"I'm sorry… I-I know you-you all tried, I ju-just… Thank you, thank you for everything, Doctor Gaster!" Holding the man back, he gave up and silently cried with him. After a few moments, they parted as Gaster placed his hands on the man's shoulders.

"Thank your daughter, because I most certainly will. I'll be here for you both if you ever need me for anything. Anything at all." Mrs. Ransen took her turn hugging and thanking the doctor, now nearly screaming in tears. This cry was all to familiar with him. There was no scream that was comparable to a parent's when it came to their children. "It'll be alright, just take your time with things." He continued to soothe the woman, her husband rubbing her back. He pulled away from her, and nudged her into her husband's arms.

Gaster took this time to write something at his desk, trying his best to not let tears drip onto the paper, and waited patiently for them to relax. It was times like this that he thanked the lavender he hid in his couch pillows. It took a while, but they eventually settled down, hiccupping a few times. The doctor knelt in front of them and held out a check with a rather large sum of money.

"What's this?" The wife took the paper, trying to see it through clouded eyes.

"For her procession. She deserves the best, and I'm sure you're going through enough. You should not have to deal with monetary issues right now." The husband was in shock over the two thousand dollars before him.

"W-We can't accept this, this is far too much! Use this for other pati-"

"Please, Mr. Ransen… This is not the hospital's money… This is your money." Looking back at the check, it was signed by the father, intended for the hospital bills. The word 'VOID' was boldly marker-ed over it. "Forget the bill. Just live. No one should ever have to deal with that in this kind of situation. I will not accept this check, nor any other form of payment." He smiled to the couple, but the edges of his cheeks quivered. "Let me help you." The two would have cried again, but were far too exhausted and still in shock to. The husband stood again and held out his hand, which Gaster took. He was proud to shake the hand of the man who raised such an amazing and strong woman.

"Doctor Gaster… You are the most… humane person I have ever met. You are far more than what people hold you up to. You are an angel on Earth." Regardless of being a strong atheist, Gaster was touched. "She may be gone, but you have still saved my little Tony. Please, never forget her."

"I would never, and I am not just saying that. Your daughter has taught me a thing or two." Mr. Ransen let out a choked laugh.

"T-That's a lot, coming from you."

"I may be old as sin, but I will never stop learning from those around me, especially if it means bettering others. Actually, a patient currently in my care has been bettered by one of your daughter's lessons already."

"Is she improving?" The wife asked, standing beside her husband. Gaster could not help but smile proudly.

"In vast strides, Mrs. Ransen." He nodded. She smiled at this, holding and leaning on her partner's arm. With a deep breath and sigh, the husband looked to his exhausted wife.

"I think it'd be best if we went home. Is there anything else, Doctor Gaster?"

"I was going to ask you that myself, but no, you may go if you would like. Remember, my door is always open to you." With their goodbyes, the doctor fell against his couch, relishing the lavender that stopped another wave of tears. "I'm too fucking old to keep doing this…" Each death under his watch wore on him. He could practically feel his soul dimming, hypothetically. He reached into his pocket, texting his son.

"heya Pops"

"Think Paps could make his famous spaghetti tonight?" He only ever asked for that when he lost someone.

"yeah, sure. Take it easy, dad, I know how you beat yourself up over these things."

"This is different. But I will try. Thank you, Sans. I love you!"

"Love ya too Pops!"

After a few moments to himself, Gaster returned to the medical wing, the bone around his eyes discolored a tad grey, his eye lights slightly purple. Each staff that passed him gave his shoulder a small pat and a smile. He hated to admit it, but it was hard to conceal when he's been bawling his sockets out. But no one blamed him, each wearing their own set of tarnished eyes. He was a little surprised to see that Clara and Grillby were right where he left them, only Clara was nearing the end of a nasogastric session and Grillby on the bed again, coddling her. Someone else must have set it up. He had been quite forgetful today.

"Hey Ga- wow…" Grillby sat there, face deadpanned. Clara just raised her brows in surprise.

"What?" The elemental could only point to the small bathroom in response. Heading inside, Gaster found that his bone was discolored, as expected, but he looked like he'd been beaten into the Underground and back. He had not looked like that in years. "Son of a bitch…" He splashed a bit of water on his face, but it did nothing. Grumbling, he told them to ignore it as he took up the clipboard.

"So, one more day?" Clara asked, only to Gaster's confusion.

"Huh? S-Sorry, one more day for what?" She pointed at the tube. "We'll see about your bloodwork first." He was surprised when she didn't argue. They all stayed silent as Gaster deftly went about his routine. Order bloodwork, do bloodwork, send back bloodwork. Order a cardiogram, do a cardiogram, send back… Grillby noticed right away how much slower he was than normal. "Okay so… uh… right, bone density… um…" He looked around, lost. Shaking his head, Grillby got up and took his shoulders, speaking softly.

"Stop. You can barely function right now. Just… stop."

"I can't, we need to know if she has any of th-"

"No, Gaster, you do. You need to know this to make yourself feel better. You need to stop before you give yourself another break down." Grillby was starting to get annoyed now. This man never knew his limits.

"Don't act like everything is fine, she could have early signs of liver failure for all we kno-"

"Could, but you _already_ have signs of losing it, so sit the hell down and stop!" He practically shoved Gaster to sit on the bed, pressing the 'call nurse' button. Knowing the doctor was in there, said nurse was prompt. "Hello, I'm sorry, but could you finish up some of these tests? _Someone_ needs to take a break…" She tried not to giggle.

"Glad to see someone is looking after you." She commented to Gaster, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. He just hung his head a little. "Should I call Sans?"

"No, thank you…" The doctor sighed, leaning forward to hold his head.

"Maybe you should make your rounds then?" Going from patient to patient always cleared his head, but he was too weighed down. He could not bear to see all their grieving faces. "… I think you should go lie in your office, Gaster." She pushed on his back, but he didn't move. "Come here." With a sigh, she took his hands, hoisted him up, and pressed the call button again. As another nurse came in, she gave the instructions and left. In another empty room, she sat him back onto a bed. "You can't keep this up, Gaster…"

"I don't have a choice, Steph."

"You do. You have a choice in how you look at things. At this rate, the council is going to revoke your license to practice for your own good. The last time this happened, you collapsed. What's going to happen if that happens in surgery, or in an emergency?"

"I've learned, it won't happen again…"

"And yet you couldn't perform some of the most basic tests? Grillbert called for me, Gaster. You're not well. Talk to me, please."

"About what?" He snarked.

"What are you feeling, thinking, going to do?"

"I don't feel or think anything, and I'm going to do my job, that's what." Why was she staring like he just hurt himself?

"… Say that first part again."

"I don't feel or think any-… thing…" He gave her a fearful look. "I…" She pushed him gently against the raised back of the bed, worrying he might have a panic attack.

"Shh, calm down, that's why I asked. You need to rest, Gaster, you're exhausted."

"I slept plenty last ni-"

"And none of today has drained you?" Gaster grimaced at being wrong, trying to ignore how his eyes practically ached. "Here." Steph lowered the back of the bed, but Gaster sat up. "Lie on your front."

"Why?"

"Just do it." Her tone dropped as she gave him a scolding look. A little skeptic, the skeleton lied down on his sternum, eyeing her sideways. She placed her hands on his shoulder blades, working her fingers into his strained joints. His entire body relaxed in an instant.

"What ar- mmm… You don't have to, Steph…" But his deep, fatigued voice practically begged her, his mind pleading to finally give his body a break. It wasn't long before he began to lose focus, mumbling incoherently as he slipped into a motionless sleep.

"Where's Gaster?" Tests finally over, Clara felt like both her arms were about to fall off as she tried to eat the lunch she was offered. Bland and boring as usual. Steph was going over the results for the doctor, without him knowing, of course.

"Resting. Aside from sore, how are you feeling?" She sat in the chair next to her.

"Tired. Not really hungry…" The implication that she would eat if she were hungry made Grillby want to hold her again, but he was banished to the far corner chair to keep from 'interfering.' I.e. distracting her with hugs, kisses, and coddling. He never realized how… mushy of a partner he was, not that he cared. "Um… actually, can I have one more test?" Nothing could stop said distraction from shooting a foot-high flare from his head from his concern. Steph decided to ignore him, again.

"Depends on whether or not you need it." Clara leaned next to her, flipping a few pages on her clipboard to the 'patient history' page and pointing. "Oh, yes, of course, you can." She stood, and hauled Grillby to his feet. "Out, go on!" Being shooed like a dog, Grillby tried to stammer his way into staying, but the door was shut in his face.

"Damn it…" _Maybe_… He leaned his ear against the door, but was deafened by a swift fist colliding from the other side. "Ah, fuck!"

"Invasion of privacy, Mr. Flame!" Steph singed. She sat at the edge of the bed. "Has anyone else since your appointment with Williams?" Clara shook her head, suddenly nervous about the upcoming pain. "Mm, definitely should then. Just lean back and try to relax." After the laceration was examined, Clara was surprisingly in minimal pain, but couldn't help but remember the cause of the injury. "You should be fine for a few more days, okay?"

She nodded, feeling a slight tightening pinch at the side of her neck. That sensation did not feel good, but it was not alarming. It usually meant that her blood pressure just spiked or plummeted. Being that she was already lying down, Clara was not worried, but she felt a bit strange, thinking again to how she got the laceration. Seeing a few strange ticks in her facial features, Steph grabbed her surprisingly stiff hand. "Calm down, you're okay-" Clara's breathing picked up rapidly, shifting her feet numbly. "What's wrong, Clara? Talk to me." Only mindless murmurs as her mind raced with empty thoughts. "Clara?" _No… please no!_ She felt her pulse, on her shaking wrist. It was out of control. Clara's head started to pivot in a fan motion. "Y-You'll be okay, I just need you to relax, p-please!"

Not knowing what this was, no signs able to give a definite answer, Steph could only watch in horror and beg to her, hoping she'll be heard. Slamming the call button several times, she harkened back to finding Tony dead, fearing the worst. It took two of her colleagues to pull her from the girl while others went into their assessment and treatment.

"Steph, calm down, she's just having a panic attack. Come here, let's go in the hall…" Steph caught sight of another nurse, the most muscular one they had on staff, trying to console the former general who had heard her trying to calm Clara. "Keep walking, Steph, it's oka-"

"What's going on, where is she?" Everyone turned to see Gaster screaming and running from where he had been sleeping. "Let me through, where is she? Clara!" He instantly hopped on the bed beside the panic-stricken girl, holding her close and crying. "No, no, please, I-I'm here, you can-"

"Gaster, get off of her!"

"What are you doing?"

"Get Anton in here, now!" Pairs of hands ripped at Gaster, but he refused, shouting back to them.

"Stop, leave her alone!" No one noticed that Clara held him back, twitching as she came down from her episode. "She's my patient, stop it! Don't touch her!" No one had ever seen this side of the doctor before, and it was an extremely rare one. There were moments when Gaster's time in the war caught up with him, slamming into him harder than he could control. Only Grillby could recognize this side of him. It was Gaster's own form of PTSD.

"You're going to hurt her, Gaster, stop!" The large man from the hall pinched ligaments on Gaster's arms and wrists, forcing his grip to weaken. They went to pull him away, but Clara was still holding him. "Stop, she's on him!" They all stopped to focus their attention back to the main problem before releasing the doctor. Gaster tried his best to hold onto her again.

"I'm here, Clara, I'm here. I told you, I'm not going anywhere. Grillby and I are here, we're here. Can you breathe for me? There you go, shh, you're alright." Hearing his name, Grillby came up as Gaster let her up to go over to him.

"G-Grillby…" She gasped, clawing at his back in desperation, getting up from the bed. He held her just as intensely, but did not hurt her. A few backed away, giving them room, as others left. Calming with each of their breaths, a soft light played around them. Gaster pulled a hand to his mouth.

Enveloped in a lavender and yellow hue, their souls phased above their bodies, pulsing their respective colors. Glowing brighter, each of their colors spread like particles to the other, till each one was nearly coated. The light began to dissipate, the speckles fading like melting snow, staining the colors of their souls slightly.

The two lovers relaxed in their grasp slowly, dragging their heads up to each other. None of the humans in the room knew what happened but Clara. Gaster had never seen this happen before, not in person. The couple just stared at each other, shocked as they sank to the floor.

"What… I feel…" Clara stammered as Grillby ran a thumb over her cheek.

"Soul bonding…" He smiled softly before looking overwhelmed with pride. "I'm yours, Clara." Holding a hand to her chest, Clara began to tear up.

"And… I'm yours…?" The elemental nodded, placing his head to hers.

"I never thought… I'd ever soul bond… It's more than I've ever dreamed it'd feel…I-I knew it could heal, but…" He no longer felt regret from his actions. He no longer felt the need to hold out a hand to catch those who fell. He no longer felt aches and pains. He no longer feared. All his flaws were healed, Clara's love having swallowed them. "Not since I was 110 have I felt like this… Like I was… alive. I actually feel alive!" He practically giggled at the notion.

"I'm… I feel like I'm… me… Did you do that?"

"We both did, for each other." Every word, every attack, every bit of abuse was smothered away by the yellow specks. She felt like her body was hers, and wanted to care for it, relishing the hunger pangs she now felt. She wanted to be selfish, do whatever she wanted! So, she did. Grabbing desperately at either side of Grillby's face, she pulled him in for the deepest kiss she's ever felt, feeling it in their souls. His flames sputtered and spat at the feeling.

_This_ was love. Not the words, not the little favors, not the hugs. This unbridled way of feeling whole due to another. Before was practically nothing in comparison. She was safe, and she was his, and he was hers. He was practically shaking when he had to pull away, feeling lightheaded.

"I… fuck, I love you…" He leaned his forehead against hers again. When they both closed their eyes, Gaster took the moment to wave the gawkers out.

"Never, in all my years, have I seen that…" The doctor smiled as he caught their attention. Oops, they forgot they weren't alone. "I could not be happier for you both! Get some rest, I'll be doing the same next door…" Giving a fatherly smile, he left.

For the first few hours or so of bonding, separating was torturous, and could compromise the bond. They were still residually solidifying their bond. This was a defense mechanism that souls had evolved. This prevented false, or accidental bonds. If a fully developed bond broke, it could send the recipients into a catatonic or violent state. Unfortunately, if one died, the pain can be so horrific that most who break end their lives or die as a result. Even in death, the bond still left its aura on the other. To break a bond while still alive, one would have to perform an act of utter betrayal; an act of LOVE could do this.

Shifting onto the bed, the bonded couple slowly slipped into sleep with Clara grabbing at Grillby's chest, and Grillby holding the back of Clara's head. Gaster could not help but sneak a peek once in a while, beyond proud of his old and new friend, before he too went to rest.

**Author's Notes: Aaaand, there it is! Yep! I went with the stereotypical Undertale Fanfic Soul Bonding route! Am I unoriginal or what :D!? Typically soul bonding is such an intimate thing that others usually never see it, thus why old-ass Gaster has never seen it. **

** Also... Okay, so Gaster is pretty messed up in this chapter. Refresher, Gaster was a medic in the monster/human war. I believe this is the only point where you will see him 'break' in the main story arch (may do an extra chapter of him and his demons). Tbh, I haven't even solidified ALL of Gaster's issues. Our poor bone boy! His outward PTSD moments are so rare that no one, in all his years of practicing, has seen them; thus it has not affected his limitations to practice... He'll get a major citation though! **

** The idea that a soul bond could heal came from my own experience with being in love. Yes, the little things, the words, the loving is all a part of it, but what really matters to me his how it can heal. It's this incredible warmth or shelter that encompasses your inner chest, and seals what once harmed you! Both Grillbs and Clara have their own harmful issues, so the idea of it healing just seemed right!**

** Only good from here on out!**

**Stay Safe, Lovelies!**


	17. Chapter 17: Adjusting

Chapter 17: Adjusting

It was closing in on sunset when he woke up, his bones cracking in protest to his conscious state. Again, he went to check on his companions. They were awake, staring lovingly at each other till Clara caught sight of him.

"I'm sorry, I just was checking everything was alright. Ignore me." He went to leave, but a voice stopped him.

"We must thank you, Gaster." Grillby sat up to face him, but held Clara's hand to his chest to supplement not seeing her. "If you never brought Clara to me that day, or taken her in as your patient, or allowed her to stay with me, I cannot imagine what could have happened." Clara sat up too, weaving to be between Grillby's arm and side.

"I think… I would almost certainly be dead if it wasn't for you, Gaster. Either because of him or from this." She referred to her disorder. "I owe you my life, Gaster." Oh, how he wanted to run up and hold them both, but his soul protested the sheer power emanating from them. The sense of protection from an unsolidified bond could compromise an outside soul's health, weakening it.

"And after all you've done for me, Grillby? It's the least I owe you. And Clara… you deserve this, all of this good in your life and more." The sense of protection pulsed like a wave, making Gaster want to duck around the wall. She smiled at this idea of finally having good in her life, being happy for more than the moment. Smiling wider, Grillby turned to Clara.

"You still haven't met Fuku!"

"Guess she's finally gonna have an aunt then, huh?" The idea of them being more than a bonded couple caused his flames to turn blue and spark. He then got the idea that they could be more than husband and wife.

"And maybe my sister will get the chance to be one too…" He grazed his hand over Clara's concaved stomach.

"Grillby!" She squirmed and giggled under his hand. Gaster knew that the effects of bonding did strange things to people, but this was… sickeningly mushy… Seeing how thin Clara still was brought his fatherly side forward.

"Grillbert…" He turned to the doctor. "She's still recovering, don't do anything stupid…"

"Gaster! I would never, how could you even insinuate that?" But he just returned one raised brow.

"Gee, I don't know, Grillby… Sure is a mystery to me…" The elemental blushed more, sinking under the doctor's gaze.

"S-Sorry. But I would never, honest, Gaster!" His non-Clara-related attention span ran thin, turning to her. "I could never do anything to hurt you, my little turtle!" Gaster could not resist faking a retching sound. "Take it in the bathroom!" But the scientist just laughed as he walked away, purposefully leaving the door open. They couldn't do anything scandalous with everyone else able to see them, now could they?

Of course, everyone in the labs had heard about the drama story couple that soul bonded, including Alphys. Who, in turn, kicked into full gossip mode, blabbing to everyone on her social media page.

"Omg, Grillby and Clara bonded! I didn't even know a human and monster could bond! Congrats to the newly bonded couple!" She squealed in joy for her new friend. Of course, nearly everyone from the Underground was already replying. Sans apparently 'saw it coming,' regardless of his past support for his dad and Grillby to be a thing. Papyrus said something about a golden bone. Gerson mentioned something about Grillby still being a child. Undyne was calling Alphys immediately. And a few others who knew the bartender, but not the little lady, were excited to see them. Even the drunken bunny had enough clarity to type with only three typos! A knock had Alphys promising to call Undyne back as she scurried to open the door.

"Hello… Alphys…" Gaster darkly leaned against the doorway with one arm. With an 'eep,' the door nearly closed on him before he jumped through. "What have we talked about regarding people's privacy?"

"I-I-It's not r-right to p-p-post it without p-permission…"

"That's right. So _why_ is there talk about it _blowing up my phone?_" She squeaked again, hiding in her lab coat.

"I-I'm sorry, Doctor G-Gaster. I-I'll go ap-pologize to them!" She went to leave, but was caught by the back of her collar.

"Ah, ah, ah… hand it over…" Giving up her phone, Gaster pocketed it as it endlessly buzzed against him. "You've lost your in-lab phone privileges for one week." He released her collar as she scurried away. "I'd knock first, just a fair warning!" He shouted. _Hopefully there won't be a need to…_ After a few moments, Alphys returned, her scales positively red from her embarrassment. The couple did not care, but it was still unpleasant to have to admit it. Seeing her state, Gaster allowed her to have her phone back.

"Th-Thank you, Doctor Gaster! By the w-way, i-isn't Clara supposed to be sitting d-down?" Clara had been chatting with Alphys over the past few days about her condition.

"Yes, where is she?"

"H-Her and Grillby w-were walking towards the c-c-café." And in a moment, Gaster was gone. Alphys wondered how he managed to practically vanish so quickly! Turning a corner, the doctor found the two leaning against each other, on line to grab some food. Storming up, he remembered to keep his distance, cleaning his throat.

"Clearly you need to relearn the lessons I've taught you about bonding, Grillbert…" He tapped his dress shoe as loudly as he could. They both turned, confused.

"Clara was hungry." He shrugged.

"And what about everyone else? And her meal plan?" Looking around them, they realized that everyone was at least ten feet from them at all times. Only Gaster dared to step up to six feet. "I understand Clara not knowing, but you know better, Grillbert. No one else can withstand you both, now get back to your room, now!" He all but stomped his foot, pointing to the exit. Dropping their still empty lunch trays, they slinked away. On the walk back, Gaster explained to Clara about the force their souls were emitting. "I will have food brought up, and you are not to leave this room for the next twelve hours." He went to leave their room, but turned back, braving to walk up to the bed. He yanked the blanket off and hurried out of the bubble. "I'm taking this…"

"You're such a dad!" Grillby called.

"Deal with it!"

They spent the rest of their twelve hours in bonding isolation eating their dinner, babying each other, sleeping, then repeating till it was nearing three in the afternoon the next day, with Clara's session haphazardly thrown in. For probably the fortieth time, Gaster walked in, seeing how close he could get before feeling the force they emitted. He got within two feet before deciding they were fine.

"Now…" He tapped his foot. "You can leave the room. But! I need to talk to Clara." They sat there and stared at him. _These two probably won't separate for weeks..._ "Right… well, your tests came back negative except for a few. Anxiety, which was expected, anemia, also expected, and your white blood cell count is low. Those are all temporary, but you do have hypoglycemia, which is occasionally permanent. You will need to eat every three to four hours continuously. You dodged a lot of bullets here, Clara; I hope you are aware of that…" She nodded, averting her eyes. She knew what hypoglycemia was, and how it could very easily turn into type two diabetes. "As for your bloodwork… I think it's safe to say that that tube will no longer be necessary." He gave her a small smile, as she was positively ecstatic. "There's a problem though. I cannot get near you. If you want it removed now, Grillby will have to do it."

"What do I have to do?" He was nervous, afraid to hurt her in some way. Thankfully, removing the tube had very few risks, as opposed to putting it in place. Giving the simple instructions, Grillby followed through. Clara tilted her head back as he slowly pulled the tube out. It was difficult to endure as Clara gasped and gagged, crying a little. After it was all done, Gaster tossed the same numbing lozenge onto the bed for her. She all but swallowed it as she held a gentle hand to her neck, swaddling herself against her partner.

"I also need to talk to you about being bonded, Clara-"

"No need to, I've already told her!" Grillby explained, almost proudly.

"And how long ago did I explain that to you? You were less than 200 then. Look, being bonded can have its risks. Being in such a powerful connection can lead you to want to do things that seem right, but aren't. Let's say you wanted to kiss him, but he did not want to for whatever reason. No matter how much you want to, you shouldn-"

"Gaster, you act like I don't already know this…" Clara interrupted, looking blankly at the bed. "Did you forget that's what happened to me?" She sounded so cold, unforgiving.

"I… I apologize, Clara, but it is-"

"What, that I wouldn't end up like _him_? That I wouldn't attack the person who I actually love, someone who, for once in my life, I'm in love with? Is that what you're asking?" Grillby tried to hold her.

"Clara, calm down, he was just being careful, bab-"

"You're gonna let him talk to me like that, let him say to my face that I would be a rapist?" Both of their souls felt like someone was pulling a knife out of them, which made Grillby's vision spin. Apparently, Clara was not affected as much.

"Stop, you'll break your bond!" Gaster tried to help, but was nearly knocked back by the sudden soul force, retreating back. Grillby grabbed on to Clara.

"N-No! I'd never allow that, Clara! Y-Y-You're wrong, G-Gaster…" He was desperate to make it stop, agreeing to anything to ease the pain, gripping onto her arms hard. This is what Gaster was fearful of. She was unintentionally forcing him. "H-He's wrong, C-Clara, you'd never do t-t-that…" Slowly, the pain eased, leaving Grillby gasping for air, his flames low. "D-Don't be mad at him… please… I think I… need some… water…" Referring to the emulsion, Grillby panted against Clara, only supported by her shoulders. She was trying her best to help him.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't-did I hurt you? Why…?" Gaster slowly approached again as the force dispersed.

"That's what I was referring to. You are far more powerful than you realize. Being a human, you are not adapted to this yet, and it will take time."

"It was an accident, Clara, don't be upset… Oh, I feel dizzy…" He swayed dangerously as Gaster reached forward, helping Clara to redirect him against the bed.

"Humans are not use to magic of any kind, and unfortunately, soul-based magic can be very powerful and unstable due to its link to your emotions." Gaster explained, grabbing some water from the bathroom. He took a small bottle from his… pocket? Dripping its contents into the water and swishing it, he handed it to Grillby, who drank it greedily. " When you bonded, Grillby transferred some of his magic to you. I'm afraid our nasogastric sessions are going to have to be replaced by magic training sessions…" He did not seem all too enthusiastic about that as he continued to mumble. "At least I won't get skewered this time… Thank Asgore I'm a skeleton…" Sans was quite the handful during his hormonal years, especially when working on his magic.

Clara was caught between two worlds, the current one with Grillby and Gaster, and her own where she was continuously fearful and doubtful. She hurt him. Not even a day bonded, and look at what she's done… Maybe they should break the bond. All she's ever done was make him worry, frustrated, stressed, scared, put him in physical danger, and now she's hurt him… If Gaster weren't here, he'd be fine. If only that stupid drug hadn't taken effect so quickly, then she'd be in her normal routine. Wake up hungry, eat some scrap of something, vomit it up, go to classes, wait for Kyle to be two hours late again, be abused, go home, be abused, be locked in the bathroom, or be lucky enough to have the couch, sleep… Things were predictable, set, and shitty. Now things were sporadic, emotional, and fearful. She never though that she'd not want to feel emotions again. People self-harmed over not feeling emotions, but she felt it was a blessing to be able to ghost through the abuse. Did she have to relearn her emotions again? _Ugh, fucking great… Are they talking about something important, shit! _

"-And then from there, we'll see about your therapy. So, there's not much of a change, really."

_No change? _

"O-Okay…" Clara tried to sound convincing, but the scientist was too clever for that. Raising that stupid eyebrow again, he gave her a sideways 'don't even try that right now' look.

"I'll just text it to you so you don't forget." The intended sarcasm on the last word was so heavy that it sank like a stone. She had not realized that Grillby had his arm around her waist, completely back to how he was before. It made her want to inch away a little, but pretended to pay it no mind. "You can go home whenever you like. Oh, and Grillby, same deal as before. Doors, locks, times, meals, all of it. I'll see you both tomorrow." With a small wave over his shoulder, he left. Why did she feel alone?

"You wanna go home, little turtle?"

"Huh?" She nearly snapped her head off with how fast she turned. The elemental had jumped a little at the response.

"Wow, uh… something wrong?" He knew there was, but was a little hesitant that he will end up feeling like his entire chest was being imploded again. She was still tired and on an emotional roller coaster. Even without the bond being completely set in stone, he could still sense a bit of her emotions. Scared, hesitant, and… numb? "Clara, what's wrong? And don't tell me 'nothing.'" She worried her lip, which he smoothed a thumb over to ease it out of its boney grasp. "Looks like I've given you one of my terrible habits." He gave an attempted smile.

"Why did you bond with me?" She talked more to the air than him.

"Clara, hon, that's not how it works."_ 'Hon?' Where did that come from?_ "We both need to want this for it to happen. Why do you ask?" Clara opted to suck on the inside of her cheek to compromise.

"I don't know… Was it wrong?"

"Clara, a bond is never wrong!" He held her cheek, but she flinched out of adaptation. "Are you having second thoughts? It's completely fine if you are, but please tell me. I need to know." If it was not obvious his hand was shaking, it was now. _Get it together, you're a retired general and police officer and this is what you're shaking over? _

"I'm just… I don't know. I don't know what this is, or what to feel, or think, or do, or say, or..."

"Feel, think, do, and say whatever you want. Being bonded doesn't limit you." He disregarded to oxymoron in relation to the word itself.

"But aren't there set things that you're suppose to do in a relationship." The word burrowed harshly into her like poison dissolving its host. 'Relationship' was always such a bitter word to her.

"Not really. Just to love the other. But if you're not in love, then you should not be in the relationship, which is completely fine, like I said." Grillby thought back to how she originally acted when he first met her. Silent, obedient, and isolated. None of those things were what a relationship was. As scared as he was, this must be a horror show to her. "Even if you don't want to be touched, but want to be in a relationship, that's fine!" He pulled his hand away, folding them in his lap to show her.

"N-No, I'm fine with that. … Can I ask you something?" Oh, the dread that phrase held…

"Of course, turtle!" …which was always accompanied by a sickening pause.

"What do you want to do for my punishments?"

"Your punishment!" Grillby flung himself sideways off the bed, standing there, staring at Clara in shock. She expected him to be all 'oh, there's no punishment, I'd never hurt you,' but this? "Clara, are you serious? This is ridiculous, why would I punish you?" He was frantic, waving his hands around, shifting from foot to foot. "Why would you think I would punish you? I've never punished anyone! I know that's what you're used to, but…" He stopped, at a loss for words as his voice softened, scared. "Do you want me to?" In all honesty, she didn't know. The world was so different to her now.

"What ever you want." Clara shrugged, reverting to her old ways when she did not know what to do.

"What I want is for you to do what you want. And I'd never punish you…" He came back to the bed, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head. "I'd never do to you what he did."

"… I'm not use to this…" She muttered into her lap.

"I know, turtle, and that's okay. Because guess what…" She looked up the him. "I'm going to spoil you so much you'll be begging me to stop…" He gave a cheeky smile, causing her to bump her shoulder against him as if to say, 'stop that,' but he just giggled as he held her tighter. They didn't notice the figure in the doorway.

"You're still here?" Gaster deadpanned, clearly unamused. He could practically feel the gross affection from the hall, and he was trying to conduct his rounds. "Even outside of things involving me, you two are plaguing my life." He meant it in a loving way, though. Shaking his head, he left again.

Everything else in Clara's life was the same as it has been for the past week and a half, but now it was… lighter? As expected, Grillby was far peppier and out of character. Gaster was fatherlier and blunter. But there was this constant feeling nagging her.

"Hey, Gaster?" She was between her magic controlling lessons and therapy, although she supposed that the latter would be starting now what with her question.

"Mm?" He didn't turn from his desk, glasses slowly slipping down his face.

"You mentioned how you can feel things with a bond, right?"

"Yes, the emotions of the one you bonded with, if they are strong enough."

"So, is that why I have this weird feeling?" That wasn't vague at all.

"Weird how?" He still didn't look.

"Like an emotional lump. No particular emotion, just… there." Still not interested enough to not multitask.

"You're a human…"

"… Yeah, and?" Gaster sighed, leaning against his chair.

"And you don't know how to interpret this signal from your soul yet. Once you hone your magic, it will come naturally." He started typing again.

"Is it supposed to feel… empty?"

"Empty?" Now that caught his attention. He turned and pushed his glasses back up. "What makes you say it's empty?" Clara shrugged.

"It just does."

"In your soul?"

"I don't exactly know… where my soul is. It's like all other emotions, in my chest right here." She rubbed her hand between her breasts.

"Then that's not your soul. You can't _feel_ your soul, but that's how some people talk about it. Your soul is an overall knowledge. If it were something, then it would be more of a thought that can therefore cause an emotion. If it's in your chest, it's not from the bond." Gaster was about to turn back, but stopped. "But empty… Why do you feel empty, of all things? Most people who are in a new relationship, especially a bonded one, are happy and mushy and…" _Gross_… He adored seeing people in love, but having never been himself, he saw how some of them acted as extraordinarily superfluous. He ignored the memories of him pampering his sons when they were toddlers. _That doesn't count… _

"I am happy, really happy… But it's like something is missing or wrong…" The two pondered a while.

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Who?" _Who else?_

"Kyle and his 'friends.' It's v-"

"I will never miss them!" She thrust herself off of the couch, trying to control her emotions like he taught her. "I will never miss them, the way they treated me, how they talked to me, how they fucking raped me! I will never, ever, not once in my fucking life, miss them!" Giving herself a mental pat on the back for only raising her voice, she stood her ground with a scowl.

"Then what?" He asked calmly.

"I-I don't know!" She huffed back down, crossing her arms. Her anger at him melted away knowing that he was just trying to help. "How am I supposed to know? I haven't felt anything for three years!"

"So, I can tell… You've shut yourself off for so long that you don't know what it's like to actually feel anything anymore aside from physically. So, therefore, is it the pain that you miss?" Anger and frustration were about to burst from her again for him to even suggest that, but something stopped her. Blinking deeply, she felt the empty feeling lurch in her. "It's alright to associate this, considering the situation, but you need to come to terms that it is not good."

_Wait, stop, I'm trying to think._

"Talk to Grillby about this, he will understand."

_I don't want to be hit or anything, why do I…?_

"Over time, you will find other ways to compromise these feelings with others. Other feelings that are not harmful."

_This is wrong, I don't feel this way. I left him for a reason, that's why I'm with Grillby…_

"Be patient with yourself, dear, and talk through this with him."

"I… No, you're wrong…" She was not very convincing.

"I know you're scared, but y-"

"I said you're _wrong_!" If only there was something that she could throw without it potentially hitting the computer or him. Gaster backed off, not wanting to distress the girl who has been in an abusive relationship, is a recovering bulimic and anorexic, has unbalanced hormones more than Sans as a teenager, and is now having a sort of associative crisis. She was more upset than angry. "I _hated_ how I was treated, why would I want to be treated like that again?"

"… I have the answer, but you do not want to hear it, because you already know it."

"What do I apparently know?" Gaster looked at her with professional eyes.

"A form of Stockholm Syndrome, dear." Clara didn't react, couldn't react. Everything and nothing made sense. She stared blankly at him, then at her lap, then at her hands in her lap, then at nothing.

"But why?"

"It's a form of adaption to be able to cope with the situation. To be honest, I've had my speculations for a while now, but you were not ready to face them."

"But… I hate him. I really do hate him…" Gaster nodded.

"And that's a good, big first step. It's the hardest one to get over. Now, all you need to do is sort out what is right from wrong, like we said before. Do you take your shoes off in the house, or leave them on? Being in an abusive relationship, your body expects these negative reinforcements to supply its natural desire for attention, like all living creatures have. You were denied positive attention so much that that abuse is all you know to supplement it."

"T-That's not true!" Clara interrupted, glad that she could prove him wrong about this. "I-I like attention about my work! Just… not in front of everyone… drugged and… clumsy…" Gaster laughed at this a little.

"I never did apologize for that, did I? Because I am truly sorry for embarrassing you like that. But I am not sorry for calling you up there, because now you're here." He slid over and put his hand on her knee. She remembered seeing the holes in his hands in person for the first time.

"I was so scared of you." She chuckled. "I thought you were gonna scream at me for hours or rip my coat apart or something."

"I would never!" He looked a little hurt, but was amused all the same. "Ripping a perfectly good lab coat… What do you take me for?" He jested. As they smiled, he continued. "But seriously, dear, just give yourself time, and talk to Grillby. You don't need to tell him everything, but explain that you need time to adjust." Clara nodded.

"Okay…"

"Good. Come here." He held his arms out, which she gladly accepted. He took note to how much heavier she felt than the day he carried her to his study. "I'm so proud of you, you have no idea!" This caused Clara to have to sniff a little against his shoulder. She missed this parental attention. Her parents were not mean, not at all! They were protective of their little girl, making sure she was alright, but always on the quiet side. Over time, Clara became too good of a liar to be able to tell her parents, who were living three states away, of everything that Kyle had been doing. Gaster pulled away and took her hand. "It's twelve, and I'm sure Grillby's been down waiting for us an hour early by now."

And there stood Grillby, somewhat patiently waiting in the lobby. He trotted up to the base of the stairs as they descended. He held out Clara's coat, even though it was closing in on sixty degrees out and nearing the middle of spring.

"You forgot your jacket this morning, Hon!"

"Grillby, it's warm enoug-"

"But your white blood cell count is low! What if you get sick? Then you'll lose too much weight again an-" Gaster pushed ahead of Clara and confronted the fire.

"The chances of her being that susceptible is unlikely seeing that she is only going from the building to the car. Calm yourself, hot feet."

"I do not have hot feet!"

"Well that's not my call to make, now is it, Clara?"

"Gaster!" They both scolded in unison, as the old bones giggled to himself. _This is too easy._ He held Clara sideways by her shoulder and kissed her head.

"I'll see you tomorrow, dear." But Grillby yanked her from his grip to hold her against his chest, making a rather exaggerative point to plant a massive smooch in her hair while glaring at his friend. "Possessive, are we?"

"I think I have a right to be…" Clara tried to budge, but was firmly isolated against him and his selfishness. Only when Grillby heard a sigh be distorted by his shirt did he release her. She turned so he was hugging her from behind and looked up.

"Babe, it's not like that, relax." She swore he had permanent puppy eyes ever since they bonded.

"Then… but…" That is, unless he's looking at Gaster, in which case he is almost always glaring. The doctor laughed at this every time.

"He's more of… mmm…" Was it crossing a line to say he was like a second dad? Gaster smiled.

"Fatherly?" But Gaster supplied for her, causing her to smile fondly.

"Exactly… And… Kyle was my first relationship, so my dad was never around to be that protective."

"And Sans and Papyrus have never really dated that much. Plus, I…" He cleared his throat, blushing a bit. "I… never really got to have a daughter before… so…" Clara slipped under Grilby's arms to hug her new father-figure.

"I love you, dad!" She said casually, causing a very audible whimper from him as he quickly snatched her up.

"I love you too, my little girl!" _Whose mushy now?_ They could feel Grillby's heat burning like a house fire as he hugged Clara, though not his 'friend.'

"I love you too, turtle…" The malicious jealously did not sway Gaster. Almost as if to dare Grillby to become more enraged, he gave Clara another small peck on the head before she was nearly ripped away.

"Oh, Babe, wait!" He put her down, trying to not feel betrayed as she stood in front of Gaster again. "I wanna invite my parent over, but… I'm scared to tell them… kind of… everything…" The father smiled.

"Pick a date and time, and I will be there. And again, I am very proud of you. I cannot imagine how difficult of a decision this must be." Both of the men were, but Grillby's pride was so powerful that Clara could actually feel it, regardless of how out of tune she was with her soul bond. Thank goodness her parents weren't anti-monster, even if they said or believed some accidentally racist stereotypes. Most humans did this so much that most monsters did not even take offense to it now.

"Actually, I just want to. I miss them…" She was about to add in her older brother too, but he was never really too interested in her personal life as long as she was safe. Should she invite him too? Oy…

"I will too." Grillby put his hands on her shoulders. Gaster scoffed.

"I would hope so. She's living in your house, and you're soul bonded."

**Author's Notes: Long explanation chapter. Btw, no, Clara cannot technically use magic. She has magic only in her bond. Of course, I had to slip in a little Dadster here! **

** Small bit of explanation: Stockholm Syndrome is traditionally in reference to kidnappers and their hostages, but it can take place between abusive husband/wife, bf/gf, etc... situations. It may not always even be in a romantic way. An abusive parent may be seen as wonderful in the eyes of an abused child. **

**Grillby: Your random psychology knowledge is showing...**

** The next chapter is obviously going to be about Clara's parents. Let's see how two Monster-Human War veterans react to accidentally racist, conservative humans, shall we? **

**Stay Safe, Lovelies!~**


	18. Chapter 18: Friends

Chapter 18: Friends

A few days ago, Gaster had called for the apartment to be cancelled. The landlord was ecstatic. Apparently, the abusive yelling had caused hundreds of complaints, which he legally had no proof of to call the police on. They were also just glad to see that the woman was now safe and moving on. Gaster and Grillby brought all her things over, which was not much.

Gaster had waivered Clara's sessions for the day, so the two lovers left for the bar. The original plan was for Grillby to bring Clara to the bar to be watched at noon every day, but it just never really happened till today. Clara sat in the back on that old couch, watching Grillby go about a few more preparations before opening for the day. Once he was open, Clara decided to sit in the same stool she did the day she first met the beautiful fire. Service was rather odd, which was saying something for how much the establishment has seen. The patrons were all a lot more talkative to the barman, who could practically run an entire service silent.

"Heya, kiddo…" Clara nearly screamed at the same voice that scared her at the doctor's home.

"Why do you enjoy scaring me?" She scolded Sans, who was on the stool beside her. She was absolutely not distracted by a certain elemental's butt…

"Meh…" Was all he said as he reached for the ketchup bottle on the opposite side of her. "Anyway, I heard you and Grillbz are thing now. 'Bout time the old lump of coal got himself a gal!" A hand of fire drummed in front of the skeleton.

"I'm right here, Sans…"

"Good, that way I don't have ta repeat myself! So, 2,700 years and you're finally bonded, huh?"

"2,535, and yes. Might I remind you that you've never even been on a date once? Even Papyrus has been on a few." Sans all but smacked the bottle on the counter.

"Hey, you're not one to talk!"

"Sans, I had my first kiss when I was half your age." Sans wasn't that old, was he? _Wait, how old is Gaster again?_

"And? What if I don't wanna have a girl?"

"Girl, guy, ambiguous. I'm practically your uncle, and I know you're not the kind to wanna live alone your whole life."

"That's why I'm with Pops and Paps!"

"That's not what I meant…" Grillby sighed. "Why don't you just tell them already?"

"Cus' I'm not their type, that's why…" Sans seemed to get down on himself suddenly, mumbling. "Too old for 'em anyways."

"Why not, they're nearly Clara's age. You mean to tell me that it's wrong for you to date them because of age, yet you condone mine and Clara's? Last I checked, 2,511 is far bigger than 481."

"Ah, shut it, Grillbz…" He chuckled a little as a hint of blue blushed across his cheekbones. The elemental did not have time to respond as another customer walked in. A massive figure blocked the light from the door as they ducked inside. The silhouette stood up and was revealed to be a 7'9"… bi-pedal goat? They had enormous halfmoon horns that were connected to soft, blond locks. The pink floral shirt and dad shorts clashed horribly with his intimidating stature. They had a gentle and friendly face, though. All the patrons, all the one being monsters, greeted the him gayly. Even Sans gave a cheerful 'hey ya.' What was not cheerful was how the elemental rushed from behind the counter and all but threw himself onto one knee before the goat monster.

"My king!" Several of the customers laugh, while Sans groaned and rolled his eyes. _King_? This 'king' gave a lighthearted chuckle as he held his hands up in surrender.

"Now, now, my friend, you really must break this habit of yours!" His voice was booming, deep, but smooth as buttercream. Grillby raised his head, but never budged from the floor.

"But, your majes-"

"You do this every time, friend, now stand." Obeying, Grillby stood tall, his feet together at a ninety-degree angle and hands perfectly poised behind him. Sans laughed again, shouting over.

"Old habits, ey, Grillbz?" But he did not respond or move. Clara debated whether or not to approach her bonded, much less this supposed king. Instead, she tried that 'connection' thing Gaster was teaching her. Focusing her energy on Grillby, she felt her affection rising and hoped that he felt it.

"Go about your business, Grillbert, I am here as a customer, like always!"

"Y-Yes, my-"

"Ah, ah, ah!" He tutted.

"Yes, A-Asgore…" Clara's attempts were interrupted as she shot to Sans in a whisper.

"That's Asgore? He's a king?" Sans just stared at her, ketchup bottle halfway to his teeth.

"Uh… yeah. Don't you know anything about monster history? It's a really popular thing as of the past… how long have we been on the surface?" He teased. Clara meant to grumble, but was distracted by her flustered love coming back to his post, as well as the fact that the massive king sat in the two seats beside her. He looked to her horrified face and offered a friendly smile before going back to Grillby. _So, if he's the king, and Grillby was the general…_

"So, I heard from a little birdy that a certain someone's finally bonded!" The giant teased the already bluing flame. Sans chirped in.

"Yep, guilty as charged!" Grillby huffed as he swiped the bottle from him... "Hey!" … before slipping a napkin that says 'Tab!' on it, which quickly shut the skeleton up.

"Y-Yes, Asgore, that is correct." This caused the goat monster to beam, a smile going from one side of his muzzle to the other, even his dropping ears perked at their tops.

"Grillbert, I am so happy to hear that! Do tell, who is this lucky monster?" Now the fire was nearly a deep blue all over his face.

"U-Uh… A-Asgore, I would like you to meet Clara… m-my bonded." He gestured to Clara, who was suddenly very self-conscious. A large, white paw was in front of Clara in no time.

"Clara, such a pleasur- Oh! My apologies, miss, I was not expecting old Grillbert here to have bonded with a human! Nothing wrong with that, of course." The rag Grillby was shining a glass with sizzled in his hand. How much embarrassment could one introduction cause? Clara gently shook his paw, meaning that she held her hand out in turn, which Asgore enveloped in his and gently moved. "I've known Grillbert since he was a young one, and to this day, he is always full of surprises!"

"A-Asgore, can I get you anything? Food, tea, anything?"_ Anything so I can leave and not be a part of this torture? _

"Some tea would be delightful, my friend." Grillby all but ran into the back as the king leaned towards Clara. "If you have any trouble with him, feel free to tell me." He mumbled, but the 'young' skeleton laughed.

"My Pops has that covered for ya, Asgore."

"Ah, Gaster! How is the old bones?" They continued on about this and that, and Clara began to wonder where Grillby was. It usually only took mere seconds for him to heat up a cup of tea. Sneaking away, she peeked into the back to see him with his head in his arms on the prep counter. She hugged him from behind, resting her face against his back.

"I'm goin' to be dusted by embarrassment, I'm tellin' ya." She giggled at his accent. He turned to lean his back against the counter and held her. He sighed before realizing something. "Clara."

"Mm?"

"You never told anyone we were bonded, right?"

"No, I just thought you did." She looked up to him. Gaster would not tell, he was far too reserved for that.

"Alphys… That gossiping, blabbing lizard, I swear… If she was not dating Undyne…" Scooping up the tea that he had made, he led Clara back up front. Just as they went through, they were met with swarms of people, humans and monsters, packed to the brim in the bar. In the short amount of time that they were back there, someone had managed to put balloons, haphazardly thrown streamers, and a massive banner that read "Happily Bonded" across the ceiling. The crowed echoed the banner and congratulations in obnoxious screams that drove Grillby to duck back inside the kitchen before trying to discreetly peek his head out. Maybe he would be dusted by embarrassment, who knows?

Sans was in front of the whole crowd; Clara swearing she saw his eye fade from blue a moment there. He trotted up and pulled Grillby from his door-shield and towards the crowd. Several people, some Clara recognized, came through the crowd and began to congratulate him, some with hugs. She recognized the second skeleton brother, Undyne and Alphys, and Schnyder. There were several others who were a mystery to Clara. One was a smaller female version of Asgore in a purple sundress, another was a robot who reminded Clara of someone from Kinky Boots, a barely visible ghost with a top hat behind the robot, and a human with hair just longer than a bowl cut in a purple and blue stripped sweater around her age. She was interested in them being that they were one of the only humans Clara had ever seen so close and enthusiastic towards the fireman. Her Grillby was just absolutely beside himself trying to keep up eight different conversations. The human seemed to spot you where everyone else did not, and came up to you.

"H-Hello." Clara greeted, but they only smiled and held out their hand as if to follow them. Accepting it, they both joined the group. Grillby looked a little more comfortable now with his turtle beside him, giving her a small smile.

"There you are, I got worried you were abducted by everyone. Thank you, Frisk." The silent human smiled back even brighter. "Oh, yes! Clara, I'm sure you know Papyrus. This is Qu-… Lady Toriel, Mettaton, back there is Napstablook, and this here is Frisk." Before anyone else could speak, Papyrus stole Clara from Grillby, hugging her in the air.

"Oh, it's so good to see you again, Human! Wowie, you feel heavier! That is good, now you can eat more of m-"

"I think she gets it, Paps." Sans interrupted.

"Right!" He set her back down before the nicely dressed Toriel came up.

"It is so nice to meet you, child! I am Toriel. It is so wonderful to meet someone who is kind enough to even make Grillby here smitten!" She did that on purpose, seeing Grillby blush…

"Oh yes, darling, positively wonderful!" An exasperatedly luscious voice chimed in. Mettaton bowed and held his hand out. Napstablook gave a silent gasp and ducked down as his cousin bowed. "Mettaton, darling! Such a pleasure, you must come to my resort for your honeymoon!" Grillby stepped forward.

"N-No, Mettaton, we're not married, w-we'r-"

"Oh, come now, we all know it's going to happen eventually, we're all thinking it!" He practically announced to the whole bar, who agreed.

"Just keep this off of your shows, Mettaton, please."

"Oh, I would never dream of it, darling!" While those two bantered about the legal logistics of this show, Clara looked to Frisk again. They only watched each other, but there was a mutual kindness there, a respect for each other's space and privacy. Thinking back to when she had severe tonsillitis, Clara tried to recall some of the sign language she knew.

'Hello, my name is Clara.' Frisk seemed ecstatic, signing back.

'Hi there, my name is Frisk!' They then signed something Clara did not know.

'I'm sorry, I do not know a lot of sign language. I know the ABC's!' They spent the next few moments spelling out what words best described their sentences, so as to not spell out a ten-word sentence, throwing in a few basic signs.

'Bond Grillby?'

'Yeah… New to me.'

'Waiting for bond.'

'Who?' Frisk looked shy as they glanced over to the group. 'Please not Mettaton!' Frisk doubled over in silent laughs.

'No, no, skeleton.'

'That who Paps dating!' Clara glanced over to Papyrus, who was inspecting Mettaton's latest fashion boots.

'No, not Paps!' Clara gawked for a moment.

"Sans?" She forgot to shout that in sign language... Before she could apologize, Frisk was lost in the crowd as they dived away.

"Yo, what's up, kid?"

"You alright, Turtle?" It looked as though she had been talking to herself.

"Y-Yeah, sorry!" Sans shot you a suspicious look before disappearing into the crowd too. The next three hours were filled with people congratulating Grillby as he filled dozens of orders at once. Very few people congratulated Clara, mainly not knowing she was his bonded. But she did not care one bit.

At some point, Grillby put a grilled chicken sandwich and a Shirley Temple in front of her with a reminiscing smile. Of course, she did not eat much, mostly because of the crushing number of people around her. Slowly the crowd thinned, and everything settled. Everyone of the main group had left except for Sans and a good half a dozen dogs. Sans was quiet, though, his smile a little more thoughtful and gentler. _He must have talked to Frisk…_ With a groan, Grillby slumped against the bar.

"I need an intern…" Considering how long he had run the bar alone, that was saying something. It was closing in on six in the afternoon, and Grillby was already exhausted, his flames low and a deeper orange. A few moans could be heard from the lump on the bar.

"You okay?" Clara asked.

"My back…" He mumbled.

"His back's always been messed up." Sans explained, still sipping from the ketchup bottle. Clara reached over the bar and started to gently rub his shoulders. He seemed to relax a moment, but twitched at a certain spot before standing back up.

"Thank you, Clara, but I think I'm alright…" He avoided, shining the line of water-spotted glasses he had. She thought back to all those scars on him and realized that was what it was. Time went on and Clara started to feel rather tired. Even with eating more normally, it was still hard for her to maintain her energy levels. Slipping into the back, she curled up on the couch and slept through the rest of the shift. By the time Grillby had woken her up, it was one in the morning. "Come on, let's go home, hon." Mumbling in her sleepy stupor, Grillby could not help but to scoop her up and carry her to his car, which he found tee-peed in streamers…

**Author's Notes: Shorter chapter here! I will post another this week, hopefully, to compensate. That one will be the one with Clara's parents. This was mostly written just to give a little insight to the other Undertale characters. There's quite a few secrets in this chapter, but several are going to be... I guess pre-references to Grillby and Gaster's backstories. Points if you can guess the two indirect pairings mentioned in this chapter! (Note: Gaster is 2,539 years old, but likes to pretend that he's younger. He doesn't like to admit that he's the older of him and Grillby, not like it matters much.)**

** Stay Safe, Lovelies!**


	19. Chapter 19: Catching Up

Chapter 19: Catching Up

Over the next two days, the Kyle's gang was slowly apprehended, and all of them either arrested or heavily charged. Clara's parents were on their way over as her, Gaster, and Grillby waited nervously in the bar. It was not open, Grillby deciding to stay closed till three for the private event. On time, Clara got a text from her mom that they were about to pull up, and headed outside.

"Mom!" Clara raced up to her mom, who she had not seen in close to four years, nearly jumping into a hug and crying. They said their 'I missed you's and swapped parents before about to head inside. "Okay, uh, before you go in, this is just going to be me and two others. We kinda wanted this to be an us thing." Her parents seemed happy about this, finally able to bond with their daughter. Out of respect and trying to keep everything positive, they decided to not say anything about how thin she was. Not like that was going to matter in a few minutes… When they went inside, Clara's parents were a little shocked to see two grown male monsters sitting at a table in a closed bar. "S-So this is Grillby, he owns the bar and a close friend, and this is Doctor Gaster. He's… kinda been my caretaker of sorts for a bit." A little bit of censorship was needed to start off. Grillby stood first, offering a hospitable hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Avery." And, of course, Gaster had to one-up him, doing a quarter bow as he shook their hands, one behind his back.

"A pleasure as well, your daughter has been well taken care of under my watch, I assure you!" They got settled, Clara at Grillby's side, followed in a circle by Gaster, Clara's father, then Clara's mother.

"So… I'm kinda just gonna get into it." The young woman started. "Okay, you remember Kyle, right?" They both nodded, saying how nice she said he was. She seemed to lose her voice, sending a 'help' look to Gaster.

"I guess it's my turn then…" He suddenly felt nervous. "You see, there was a reason that I started caring for Clara. Kyle Brenton is a… pardon my language, but it is the only way to properly describe him. He is a disgusting, inhumane, horrific bastard. He… I must apologize again, this is difficult for even me… He abused your daughter to a significant degree. Thankfully, she had come to my lab to take an acceptance exam. Had I not noticed her strange behavior and addressed her about it, I abstain from thinking about what might have happened. Mr. Brenton is now imprisoned for what he has done, and Clara is making impressive strides to better herself with Grillby and my help. You must understand that it is difficult for Clara to talk about this, and chances are she does not wish to be treated any differently for what has happened." He looked to Clara to confirm this, which she nodded towards the table. Mr. Avery was livid, but silently and patiently listening.

"What happened?" Mrs. Avery whispered, wanting so desperately to hold her daughter, but not wanting to disrupt anything.

"That…" Gaster took a breath. "… is where this gets rather difficult to hear." Over the course of the explanation, Clara had slid her chair closer to Grillby till she was against him as he took her hand in his for support. "… And in the time being, she has been housing with Grillby. He has made sure she is safe and has everything that she needs, including emotional support." The elemental cleared his throat, signaling that he wished to speak next.

"Mr. and Mrs. Avery… Your daughter has been through some… pretty nightmare-ish things, but as have I. I understand how she has reacted to certain things, and sympathize with her. She comes to me to feel safe, and I gladly accept that. Clara is… I-It's amazing how strong she is, I am honestly baffled by it. I admire her strength and ability to keep going through… just this whole mess. Excuse me…" He got up and retreated to the back for a moment before returning with eyes still slightly clouded with tears. "M-My apologies." Clara's father sat up a little and eyed him.

"Grillby, was it?"

"Yes, sir." Her father stood and walked beside his chair.

"Stand." Grillby stood, seeming a little bashful as he towered over the man. A hand was shot out to him. "I must thank you for caring for my daughter. If I am not mistaken, you both are together. I never met this Kyle, but I'm sure if I had, he'd have been long gone far before this had happened." Grillby was surprised as he took his hand, which tightened harder in a threatening manner. "And you be wise to continue to take good care of her."

"I'd sooner die otherwise." As grim as this was, it was an agreement for the men. Now he turned to Gaster.

"And I'd trust you'd do the same?" Gaster smiled knowingly, standing as well.

"Mr. Avery, I too am a father, but I have not been blessed as much to have had a daughter. I vow to you that I will treat Clara as such. And, I will keep a watchful eye on Grillby here." It was an obvious tease. It took everything in the elemental to not speak up, something which Mrs. Avery saw. "But I must assure you, I have known him for a vast majority of my life, and there is no one better suited for your daughter." This pleased Mr. Avery.

"And I presume the esteem Dr. Gaster would be the best suited to take on that role of caretaker?" Clara scoffed.

"Ugh, dad, don't inflate his ego anymore, please. It's massive enough." Gaster leaned around to look at her.

"I do not have a massive ego!" Grillby started walking to the back, starting to laugh at his sudden defensiveness.

"Humility is not your best trait, Gaster, sorry to break it to you." They all settled back down as Grillby went to start lunch for them, which was rather prompt. Thankfully, lunch was far lighter on the heart, at least for a moment.

"So, Grillby, what about your family?" Mrs. Avery asked, trying to be polite.

"U-Uh… I'm afraid that I do not have much of a family, I am sorry."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She leaned over to Clara whispering. "Was I being racist again?" Clara nearly spat her drink in laughter. Grillby did not, however.

"No, you were not, Mrs. Avery, no worries. Fire elementals do have families. Unfortunately, most of mine have all passed away many years ago. It is just my sister and niece left."

"Oh, I am so sorry! Well, if you would like, we are here for you as long as you are here for Clara!"

"I appreciate it, Mrs. Avery, I truly do, but I would prefer not to." Grillby's family members, minus his sister and niece, had dusted long ago due to illness or from the war. Mr. Avery chimed in.

"You said 'many years ago.' If you don't mind my asking, how old _are_ you?" Here we go…

"You must understand, elemental do not age like other monsters or humans do. We age more so on our physical body's capabilities."

"So, how old are you in… physical capability… bodily… years?" He stammered. For this, Grillby looked to the smug doctor, glad it wasn't him being ask thi-

"What?"

"Well, you're _technically_ my physician. How old would you say?"

"Uh… W-Well, that's not a fair question! I can only tell you how healthy you a-"

"So, health wise, how old would I be?" This continued as Clara and her mom whispered.

"Do they always do this?"

"Kinda. They're like brothers, and it's really just amusing to watch." Her mother agreed, but it was obvious by her husband's face that he was not amused by any means.

"It's more emotionally how you feel than anything!" Gaster retorted.

"Not true, a human can feel like they're sixty but could be eighty! I've seen it!"

"Well, tests can't tell everything, especially for something so vague as to an elemental's hypothetical human age!"

"Then get to it, Mr. Biggest Scientist in the World!"

"That has not been determined, and you know it!"

"I was talking about your ego!"

"Well, I'd say you're a good old seventy-four!"

"That's ridiculous, I'm more in my thirties!"

"Ha! You wish! You can't even lift from the floor up more than fifty pounds!"

"Well, sor-ry for having a permanent back injury from serving my people, which _you_ did surgery on, so really I have you to blame for that!" Mr. Avery cleared his throat louder than Asgore's laugh.

"I would like an answer." The aggravation was obvious, and the two men looked like they just got scolded by their parent for something they knew was wrong. Gaster was the quietest Clara has ever heard him.

"Early t-thirties sound ab-bout right…" He looked down at the table in both fear and shame. Clara groaned.

"Dad, stop scaring my caretaker and boyfriend!"

"Boyfriend?" Both her father and Grillby exclaimed before looking at each other.

"You're her _boyfriend_? I thought you were just her, I don't know, a thing, but not dating!"

"I didn't either, well, no I did know. But I never thought of myself as her boyfriend! That just seems like something high schoolers do!"

"You better tell me every little bit about yourself before I give you a reason to!"

"Dad!" Clara stood now, glaring at him. "Leave him alone! His life is none of your business, especially since you just heard that he's been in the service. What makes you think that he wants to talk about that to someone he just met?" Grillby tried to get her to sit down.

"It's okay, Clara, I don't mind." But his voice said otherwise.

"Isn't the fact that he's helping me enough, that he's helped get me away from the scumbag?" But he didn't answer. "Honestly, dad, you wouldn't have acted like that if he was a human. Grow up." With that, Clara left for the back room, with Grillby soon in tow. Gaster looked tortured by the current situation.

"Well, this just became very awkward…" He said, keeping his eyes to himself. Mrs. Avery shared in this.

"True, but it doesn't have to stay that way. If it's alright with you, tell me about yourself!" She has no idea how big of a can of worms she has just burst open as an excitable grin grew on his face. Clara's father kept his eyes on the back door regretfully.

"I can't _believe_ him! He's such a prick sometimes, and he acts like he's so liberal and all! Ugh!" Clara paced till she flopped face first onto the couch. Grillby laughed and rubbed her back.

"Well, whatever, right? He'll have to deal with it." She just groaned into the cushion. "I've got an idea, come on, sweetheart." Clara's head popped up as he started to leave.

_Sweetheart_? She tried to bite away a smile, but he saw. Grabbing her waist, they walked back to the dining area.

"Mr. Avery, I must apologize. I thought I had made it clear in the beginning of my relationship with your daughter. I have a tendency to keep to myself due to some… past experiences. But I can guarantee to you, I would sooner dust myself than harm Clara. I just…" He lost his proper demeanor as he looked to Clara, his eyes swimming in bliss. "I still can't believe that… that I'm yours…" Bowing his head down to hers, Grillby had to hold back a content sob. "I'm so glad you're doing better. I was so close to losing you… If Gaster hadn't checked your blood, I… fuck, I can't lose you…" A boney hand brought the elemental back.

"Grillbz, before you, eh… get too lovey-dovey, it's almost three."

"Three!" He had intended to open the bar in ten minutes! "Shit, Gaster, why didn't you tell me? Augh!" Racing behind the counter, he synched his apron on and went to unlock the front doors and the turn on the florescent 'open' sign. "Uh, chopping!" And with that, he was in the back. Clara couldn't help but giggle, and Gaster sentimentally shook his head at his friend. It was adorably amusing how Grillby could change modes at the drop of a hat.

"He's a hard worker, at least." Mr. Avery sipped his soda. "I'm sorry, Clara, you know it's my job." Gaster snorted.

"That's an understatement! I've heard of parents stalking their children on dates!" _Not that I have…_ Mrs. Avery collected the plates, seeing the elemental was quite busy.

"When do the other workers come in?"

"Grillby runs single-handedly!" Clara responded, causing her dad to choke a little on his drink, and Mrs. Avery nearly dropped the plates.

"M-My goodness! He has quite the handful. Dr. Gaster, I hope we did not keep you, but we must be heading to our hotel now." Clara jumped up and down a little and interrupted Gaster before he could even start.

"Oh, no, no, stay with me! I wanna show you the house! Let me go ask Grillby!" Grabbing the plates from her mom, Clara ran into the back. "Babe, babe, can my parents stay in the guest room for tonight, please?" Looking up from the piles of tomatoes surrounding him, the chef laughed.

"Yes, they can, dear. But remember, the rules are still the same." Wiping his hands, he went back into the dining area, pulling out a key ring loaded with close to half a dozen keys with tape and labels on them. "Mr. and Mrs. Avery, you are absolutely more than welcome, but you will need this. Clara is not allowed to have access to the fridge or cupboards just yet, so these will unlock them. This one is for the remotes, but no shows with celebrities. This one is for the windows, but do not open them unless it is an emergency. This is the fridge, that's the cupboa-" Clara's father was gawking.

"What, is she to starve?" Gaster sighed and took over, shooing Grillby back to his work. He explained the basics. Clara didn't care, she was too excited for them to see her new home, the home she shared with her bonded! They didn't know that part yet though. "Alright… If you say so…" With goodbyes, they departed in the family car to the small house. Clara had forgotten about the doors in the corner of the living room, as well as the lingering smell of mechanical grease that was still dissipating from when everything was installed. "Why are the doors… there's locks on _everything_! Look at the door, Margret! Why is it freezing?"

"Ugh, you heard Dr. Gaster, John, get over it! Plus, the man is fire. This is a rather… small, but quaint house. Very modern!" Of course, the woman who lived off of home improvement shows loved it. And she was not wrong; Grillby had never touched the thermostat to a point where he does not even know where it is anymore. Clara showed them around, minus Grillby's room. "So, where do you sleep?"

"I'll just sleep on the couch for tonight. It's really comfy, so it's fine!" She'd never tell the conservatives that she sleeps in the same bed as Grillby, alone, in their own house. Her parents did not fight this, but of course were not thrilled. After menial talk for several hours, they sat to eat premade dinners from the fridge that Grillby had prepared. John, the father, looked personally insulted at the bland food, but kept quiet about that.

"This guy better be civil to you…" He grumbled.

"He is, dad…" Clara exaggerated.

"You're not fucking him, are you?"

"John!"

"Dad!"

"Well, it's a pretty legitimate concern!"

"John, I swear…" Margret shook her head at him.

"… Well… I mean, I didn't get an answer."

"_No_, dad, I'm not. I still have that injury anyway…" Clara could barely be heard, shamed to mention it.

"It better stay that way…"

"Dad… just stop." Clattering her plate into the sink, Clara flopped onto the couch, staring at the rug. He always had to bring things up without thinking if it was a sensitive topic or not. It's just who he was, but it didn't help.

"What? I think I have a right to be annoyed if someone is having sex with my daug-"

"John, stop it." Her mom dropped her voice to a whisper, but not quiet enough. "She might never want sex after what happened, and even so she's twenty-four. Leave her alone, she's dealing with enough. If you're going to be like this, go sleep in the car." Digressing, Margret went and sat with her daughter, silently pulling her against her. "I'll never ask, but I'm always here, hon. I'm so happy you have such… honestly, amazing people in your life. Gaster is dedicated to you, and I don't think Grillby could bear to part with you! You found yourself a good group, hon… Or… actually, Gaster did, huh?" This got a small smile from her.

Being close to ten, Clara's parents called it a night, retiring to the door-less guest room as Clara curled into the corner of the couch. Her bond ached, not being used to being separated for more than three hours at such great of a distance. Even so, she pulled a blanket around herself and fell asleep.

Returning home with a deep sigh, Grillby found his semi-mother-in-law sitting at the nook, drinking some chamomile tea.

"Oh, Mrs. Avery… I'm sorry, I forgot that I had guests." He caught sight of Clara on the couch. "Tsk, you silly thing, what are you doing out here…" Walking up to her, he cradled her in his arms and tucked her into his bed, taking a moment to warm the room up a little before leaving. "Sorry, I don't like seeing her sleep on the couch. Reminds me too much of _him_." Seeing what he meant, Margret smiled.

"You sure do work late, huh?"

"Mm, comes with running a business. Humans sure do love to stay out late." Grabbing a bit of leftovers and heating them in his hands, he sat beside her. "Sorry about the doors and the locks. And the heat! I forget when I have guests that they get cold. Gaster is not really bothered by it." She waved him off.

"That's alright. I wanna ask you something Grillby. Clara really… has taken a liking to you. I've never seen her this happy about anything before aside from her studies, but you need to take care of her. She'll freeze when you're not here, and-"

"If she's not with me, she's with Gaster."

"For now. But what about when she doesn't need to?" Dare he tell her that the bond can residually warm her? Dare he tell her about the _bond_?

"You're right, I apologize." He kept his eyes down.

"You look away when you hide things don't you?" He shot to her, wide-eyed now.

"How did you…" Margret giggled just like her daughter.

"I'm just a bit perceptive about things like that. I'm not like John, so what's up?" He had no choice now, now did he?

"Mrs. Avery, I, uh… well… Stars, this is awkward… well, Clara and I are… bonded. I-It's not intercourse, a lot of humans think it is. It is not at all!" He defended.

"I know a little bit about it, don't worry!" She was amused before looking thoughtfully at her cup. "My little baby… bonded with a bartender… bar owner… veteran… gentleman…" He blushed with each word. "I'm very sorry, but I just have to ask…"

"What war?"

"If that's alright…" She did not look at him, giving him space. The elemental dimmed a touch and looked at the counter.

"The Great War, between humans and monsters… I know I am literally ancient, but… I'm not like humans. I don't age. I don't get why humans obsess over it so much." Margret nodded to herself.

"To protect them. I'm not sure about monsters, but there are people who go after our young children who should not. Without age, we cannot discern who is and isn't abusing them."

"Pedophiles… No, we do have laws about that as well. For humans, it is far more frequent. Monsters are so protective of their young that it rarely could happen if there even were ones around. Not to mention how small the Underground is. There is so much respect and humanity, ironically enough, with monsters, where humans fall short on. Sometimes, terrifyingly so… I was worried about my age when I fell for Clara too." He chuckled. "But… I've never fell in love before so… what the hell do I know?"

"You must be in your thousands, then?"

"Yes… 2,535, to be exact… Most of my life is chronologically organized by deaths and births… Watching those I befriended grow old when I did not… Seeing them grow stiff and pained. It's… it makes you feel helpless. Everyone forgot who I was, and I'd prefer if it stayed that way. What I have done in the war is nothing short of murderous… We all saw ou'selves as murderers. We all _are_ murderers. 'm not gonna sugar coat anythin.' I miss 'em… There are so few of my people alive…" Catching himself saying more than he intended, he looked away again, clearing his accent. "S-Sorry. I forget to shut up sometimes…" But a hand rested on his tall shoulder.

"You did what most people could never do."

"And what's so wrong with that? No one should ever have to do what I have… I'm sorry, I should not be with your daughter. Take her with you, please. I have too much that I don't want her to bear…"

"I will never deny my daughter her happiness, Grillby. You served under a command, there was nothing else you could have done to protect the people you loved…"

"No… I, uh… I was the commander. General, to be accurate. Might as well get it all out in the open while I'm at it." He gestured for her to follow him to the couch. "I served under my f-… general, but was the new one when he passed. I gave the commands… I let them get killed and I let them kill. I murdered thousands personally… When we got trapped in that mountain, I… was furious! I spent days trying to get out, knowing it was useless. I failed them, all of them… Yet I lived. I regret living every day of my life… But when I look at Clara, all that pain I felt seemed worth it. I feel so guilty being with a human. Mrs. Avery, I killed your people. I killed your ancestors… Doesn't that enrage you? Don't you hate me?" It was more of a genuine question than anger. But she smiled solemnly at him.

"No… You loved your people, and I will never hold that against you."

"But why? All the other humans hate me, why not you? Why not Clara?" He did not realize he was slipping again. Remembering the war often led to his self-deprecation.

"No, Grillby. And I want you to stop hating yourself. If not for you, for Clara."

"She deserves better…"

"So be better." She barked. Bitterness stung him, but she was right. He's had two thousand years to get his shit together.

"… Yeah… I-I'm sorry, I did it again! Shit!" Rubbing a hand across his back, she could only smile.

"I like you, Grillby… You'll make a great husband…" She got up and went to the guest room.

"Wow, wai- husband? B-But we're no-I mean we…" A finger was held to a Cheshire smug.

"Shh, don't ruin the surprise now." She left into the room, leaving a small diamond in the elemental's chest. _Husband… Am I…_ Monsters did not typically marry until recently centuries when wedding paraphernalia fell into the dumps more frequently, magazines, brochures, abandoned invitations. So, in monster culture was bonding marriage? _Just go to sleep, you dumbass… He didn't want to think about that right now, but… She deserves a real wedding, anyway…_

The next morning, Mr. Avery was surprised to see Grillby sleeping on the couch.

"I think I got you all wrong, Mr. Grillby…" Waking with a sharp snort, Grillby tried to find his glasses.

"Mm? Whose here?"

"Mr. Avery, Grillby." Now frantic to find his glasses, the elemental was suddenly awake.

"Ah! S-Sorry, I just woke up and I- where are my, augh, not again!" John reached onto the floor and handed the spectacles to the man. "Oh… T-Thank you…"

"And I said, 'I think I got you all wrong, Mr. Grillby." He offered his hand. "You have given my daughter a bed over yourself, given her a home that she is proud of, given her safety, and given her her health back, not to mention her happiness." Standing, Grillby accepted the hand.

"And I have you to thank, Mr. Avery. You care for her so deeply." He nodded.

"It's my job… Listen, I couldn't help but overhear you and Margret last night… My brother died in Afghanistan… If you ever need someone to talk to about this, I'm here. PTSD is a bitch… I overheard him too talking about killing… and I would not wish it on anyone. What you had done was nothing short of survival and caring. I could not ask for anyone else better to care for Clara." A little jostled, Grillby nodded.

"Thank you, sir… I'm deeply sorry to hear about your brot-"

"Ah, save it. I'm sure you're just as sick of the 'deeply sorry-s' as I am. By the way, if you do marry her, it'd be a little odd for me to call you my son-in-law."

"Y-Yeah, I agree." Referring to Grillby's massive age, they both laughed.

**Author's Notes: I'm so sorry about this being late! This chapter is pretty much just as it's written. Nothing really deep about it besides Grillbs being badgered with questions and all. I wanted to try to make Clara's parents realistic, but how can you really do that when monsters aren't exactly a thing. **

** I gotta say, I love writing Grillbs and Gaster's bickering! There's so much that they can bash on each other about lovingly. Gaster has had an enormous ego since Grillbs met him. And it's only gotten bigger since...**

** Next chapter will be insight into the war! It's gonna get dark, needless to say. **

**Stay Safe, Lovelies!**


	20. Chapter 20: Lessons

Chapter 20: Lessons

The men continued to talk over coffee as the women awoke to a fresh breakfast. In time, the parents were to part for their home. "Have a safe trip home. It really was wonderful meeting you." Grillby said, tightened his hold on Clara's hand as they stood on the steps. John shook his hand, hugged his daughter, and walked away; but he did not see as Margret nudged Grillby with a 'go get 'er!' with a cat-claws gesture as the fire nearly screamed in embarrassment.

"Mom! Go!" Clara shouted at her. Grillby's face, flames and all, were a deep blue. He just pulled her closer, looking away as if to say 'I already did.' "Don't encourage her, babe!" This was too easy. He looked to her pouting face and took her chin as he kissed her with a smile. She pulled away, trying not to smile. "You two are the worst…"

"Aw, baby!" He gave her his saddest puppy eyes. She pushed his cheek away as he laughed.

"Ugh, I don't blame Gaster for finding us unbearable…" But she loved it as much as her bonded did. They closed the door after the car was out of sight, finally glad to be free from the tension of judgment. "Probably should get to my session, huh?" But he just stared at her disheveled look. "What?"

"Just… nothin.'" He wrapped his arms around her waist before kissing her gently. The kiss didn't break like Clara had thought, and only made their bond swell.

"Mm, babe…" He cheekily barely pulled away.

"Yes?"

"T-The… session…"

"Few more minutes…" He kissed her deeper, and she suddenly could not say no as her breath hitched. Kissing was such a luxury to her, finally feeling what love really was through it; and his was delicate but deep, something she had never felt before. They lost track of time as the clock's number changed again and again. Only when Clara's phone went off did they come out of their trance.

"Where are you guys, you're late" Gaster texted her. It was 8:50 when her parents left, and it was now 9:10! Grillby took her phone.

"My parents are leaving now, give us about half an hour." He lied, sending the message.

"He'll never know." He smiled back into their kiss, smoothing his hands across her back, one reaching her neck. Clara was surprised when he kissed the side of her mouth. Maybe it was an elemental thing? But then he kissed her cheek, her jaw, and she knew what he was doing.

"M-Mm, ah, B-babe…"

"Mm?"

"We should g-get going…" But she was breathless at his gestures. Coming back up, he gave her one last kiss.

"You're right… I just love you so much…" He fought to not kiss her again as she grabbed her coat, as she got into the car, as he glanced at her when he drove, as she got out at the labs, as they walked to Gaster's study, and even as Gaster let them in.

"There you are! Come in, we're already behind." Grillby nearly swatted Gaster's hand as he led Clara in. "See you at twelve, Grillbz? … Hello?" Tearing his eyes away from his bonded, Grillby stammered.

"Hm, yeah, twelve… yeah…" He back away, giving Clara a giddy 'see ya' and a doofy smile before Gaster shut the door.

"Alright, so last time we were working on hatr- Clara, come on!" She snapped her attention to him. "Grillby's bad enough, I don't need you being all gushy. We've got aggression today, and if you're all kissey-kissey, this is pointless." Clara had been making slow progress on her magic control lessons, mostly because of the silly ways her love said goodbye. "You two are worse than Asgore! Perhaps therapy would be best first. Get your mind off of things. How was it with your parents?"

"Good! They really like him!" Again, back to Grillby.

"Good… I'm sure it was stressful what with his past having come up…"

"Actually, dad gets it, and mom does too. Apparently Grillby told them! Maybe I can get him to talk to them more."

"Any anxiety over your own past with them?"

"A little, but when I remembered Grillby, I was okay!"_ Grillby, Grillby, Grillby… guess she's in the obsession stage… wonderful…_

"What about his past do you know, come to think about it." Even then, her face didn't drop.

"Bon looked after him like a dad, he was really young, he became general when Bon died, there's something having to do with people falling, he doesn't like the smell of burning flesh, and… he has some guilt, but I get it!"

"So, what you're saying is-"

"Oh, and he has a lot of scars! He has this star one from a star spear or something."

"Yes… He's seen a lot of pain…"

"Yeah, but he's better now!"_ By the stars, get upset, get angry! I can't work on your lessons if you don't._ But this did bring up a rather important topic.

"So, you know close to nothing about him…"

"Of course, I do!"

"Clara, those are the most basic things about back then. Did he even tell you how he met me?"

"Well, it probably isn't a good memory, so I don't push him."

"Not good? He looked up to me. I saved his life dozens of times as a medic. We were inseparable after Bon died. He told you none of that?" Now Gaster was feeling hurt. Perhaps it was not Grillby's story to tell?

"I don't know. I don't push him, I don't want him to have a panic attack."

"Clara… you're bonded. If you barely know anything about the most important part of his life… you barely know him at all then."

"Oh wait! I know about his mom and Bon's ashes!"

"Yes, the necklace and helmet. What else about them?"

"He hasn't thought of anything to make Bon out of, but his mom is a tree. He doesn't want anyone to do anything with him when he dies though. Or at least that he doesn't know what he wants people to do. He misses his culture or something."

"I've seen it slowly deteriorate through the centuries, yes. It weighs on him heavily, but it's the lightest of his burdens."

"He'll tell me when he's ready!"

"He'll never be ready; you need to make him. Grillby's not one to just tell something. You need to fish it out of him. Clara, he never told his sister their mother died. She found out from the necklace he had around his neck nearly a _century_ later! He doesn't talk."

"He… never told her? Is that why she hates him?"

"Not a word. He ignored her, pretended she didn't exist, and kept it from her as she wondered if her mother was alive or not."

"… But… he had to have had a reason. Right?"

"There's no reason good enough for that. He knew what he was doing was wrong, unfair, and even cruel…" Clara stared at him.

"No, he had a reason, he wouldn't just not tell her! He's so considerate and sweet and goes out of his way to help people! He has that record or whatever with Schnyder, so he had to have had a reason, he just didn't tell you!" The sudden accusation panged Gaster a moment.

"Well apparently that reason was not good enough for his sister, so was it really justifiabl-"

"He wouldn't do that!"

"Well, he did! He's 2,500 years old, you think he hasn't done some pretty shitty things?" Gaster did not mean to raise his voice, nor raise to his feet. He sunk back into his chair, wondering for a moment whether he was referring to Grillbert or himself there.

"You know what, fuck you! I don't care if he's been an asshole in the past, he-"

"You wouldn't say that about Kyle…" Clara glared at him now.

"Don't. Compare. Grillby. To that _fuck_!"

"You're right, but was Grillby denying his sister the truth not torture? She suffered for years, Clara. Yet you can forgive him for that? His sister hasn't. His only remaining family still hates him after two thousand years. Clara, you really don't know him at all… You know Grillby now, but a person is built off of experiences." Her anger dissipated as she sat down in realization.

"But… he won't tell me…"

"Won't, or is it that you have not tried?"

"I don't want to push him…"

"You'll have to. He's a strong man, he can take it. I can help you, if you like."

"Please?" She all but begged. Gaster chuckled.

"Well, I have a little secret for you." He opened the door from his desk, and Grillby peeked his head from around the corner, sitting on the floor. "He sits here every day till where done." The elemental blushed. "Thank goodness the door is sound proofed… And for my security cameras! Get in here, you doof." Scrambling in, he sat next to Clara, but she leaned away a little. "No more hiding, Grillbz. You need to tell her about the war." He looked absolutely betrayed and hurt.

"B-But I have! About Bon, mom… I don't think you want to hear about the smells and what I saw, Clara. No one should." She stayed quiet.

"She mentioned people falling…" Gaster began. "You never mentioned how you met me, how you met Bon, before the war, after the war."

"That's… a _very_ long story… I can't possibly… I don't even really remember it all."

"Start with the fall."

"That's the hardest one…"

"Best to get it over with then, hm?" Gaster pushed him with a stern look. Grillby fidgeted.

"Heh, haven't… told this since I could smoke…"

"Not happening…" _Begrudging bat…_

"Uh, okay…" Clara looked to him now. "I-I was general at the time. We were in a raid of a human army camp on the northeast side of us. Or, no, we were on the way to a raid. Somehow, the humans got wind of our surprise attack. They flanked us from behind, forcing us towards their camp. We had to cross a rope bridge, and another group flanked the opposite side. We were trapped… I… Gaster, I c-ca-can't p-"

"She deserves the truth, Grillby." He shivered and curled in on himself, holding his torso.

"T-They c-c-cut the ropes… There were rapids… Everyone r-ran to t-the humans. W-W-We rather d-die by sword th-than dowsing… B-But… W-We all… I heard their screams… The pain as they slowly dowsed in the water. The hissing, the vapor… The _screams_… They all died. Every last one of my men on that mission… were dead… T-They d-d-dusted and floated down t-the river." Clara did not dare touch him.

"How did you…?"

"Luck… I-I hit a rock… bounced and landed on t-the bank… I couldn't move…"

"His back was broken pretty severely." Gaster added. "Took me five hours to set it. He's beyond lucky he was not paralyzed, much less killed by that fall. The armor was what saved him."

"I shouldn't have been saved…"

"What did you do afterwards?" Gaster led him, ignoring the last comment, something he heard far too many times.

"What? I was forced to bed rest for months, you know that."

"I mean at the banks." Grillby look at him, confused. "After you fell, when I found you."

"I was unconscious." This surprised Gaster.

"I guess you don't remember. You were _barely_ conscious when I finally found you, after probably three hours after we started our search. I went to carry you out, but you suddenly started screaming. You tried to pull yourself into the river. I didn't quite catch everything you said in elemental, but it was something along the line of saving them, I believe. You passed out in the middle of that. You had a horrible concussion, so I suppose it makes sense you don't remember."

"Yeah… I was throwing up for days from that…" Grillby rubbed his head, as if he was in pain suddenly.

"You were under constant watch. Those poor laundry girls…" He chuckled. "No wonder they hated us for a while." Gaster gave Grillby one of the pillows beside him, which he leaned his chest into and tucked his head down. Clara saw him taking deep breaths. "He's the reason I have those pillows. Lavender is a remarkable calming agent." He explained. "Had to give him practically seven of them when he quit smoki-"

"Was forced to quit, and it was four." Grillby muffled through.

"Well, I quit at the same time, so I don't want to hear it. You've got your vape things now." Grillby lifted his head.

"And you have candy… Whose is more healthy now?"

"First off, it's 'heathier.' Not 'more healthy.' Second, vaping is a very serious-"

"It's not normal vaping, it's vegetabl-"

"Let me see the studies, and I'll shut up."

"Show _me_ the studies that says vegetable glycerin is dangerous. I'm sure your marrow work is horrible."

"My marrow is just fine, thank you!" Grillby threw the pillow at him, only to grab the one beside Clara and hold it. Clara looked pensive.

"Is that why you always arch your back away when I touch it?"

"Only the top-middle, but yeah…" So instead, Clara ran her hand around the base of his back, leaning against him.

"That's what you remembered with the panic attack?"

"Yeah…"

"… What about the hearing things part?" Gaster leaned in a little taking this one.

"That's a side effect of his many… _many_ concussions, and PTSD. Words can be distorted, he used to see things very vividly too. He's slowly gotten over those things being unprovoked though. Now, unless it's an extremely bad panic attack or flashback, he does not seem to get them. Thankfully, too… Wait, you hallucinated?" Gaster went from professional and calm, to frantic in a matter of a second. The bonded looked at each other, both with the look of _shit_ on their faces. "When was this, did you have your medication, what caused this? You said voices, what else happened? Damn it, I told you to tell me every time this happens!" But Grillby just hide further into the pillow, so Clara picked up for him.

"He was showing me the fire communication thing. We had talked about something relating to the war. I asked him to do it again cus' it cheered him up. His flames were sharp and… dangerous looking. He stopped and started apologizing. I asked if he was okay, then started saying stuff like 'you shouldn't know that' and that it 'wasn't his fault.' I helped him onto the floor and he just stopped. He took some Risperidone, but I don't know how much."

"Wait, you read my medication?" Grillby shot up from the pillow. Gaster tsk-ed at her.

"Clara, very rude…"

"I-I told you not to look in that drawer!" The pillow was not seeming to help much anymore. Clara shrunk away.

"I didn't! I read it before you told me, when you took it, I wanted to make sure it wasn't something you weren't supposed to be taking!" She defended. He seemed to relax a little from this.

"Just… don't touch that. _Ever_!"

"I won't, I promise!" Grillby gave a deep sigh and leaned against her.

"Thank you… But yeah, it wasn't that bad, G, honest. I only took one." Gaster looked at him through slatted eyes.

"No other medications?" He led, as if implying something.

"No…"

"Did you write down the time and date?" Grillby glanced down at this question.

"… No."

"How am I supposed to keep track of this if you never tell me? You could have relapsed! Do you want the visions back again?" Gaster scolded, but the elemental did not seem to care, or he has heard this too many times to. "You two are going to make my life _miserable_!" He turned back to his desk and started typing something, probably on the elemental's massive medical file. Grillby leaned all his weight against Clara now, causing her to fall over as he snaked his arms around her.

"Tired."

"Get a room! Actually, no, please don't. Ugh, ew, please don't make me think about that. Just stop." But Grillby just nestled his head into Clara.

"You're softer than before. I like that…" Clara was slowly gaining weight back, but she was immeasurably self-conscious about it. Grillby had these little ways to make her feel better. She currently was at 84 pounds from her original 79! Gaster wouldn't shut up.

"And your lovey shit is gross…"

"I love you…"

"Well, sorry Clara, but you're on your own here."

"Mm, I knew we should have stayed home…" Grillby hinted back.

"Like it matters anyway, look at yourself."

"At least that lie would have been worth it."

"Yes, ye- what lie?"

"I should have just kept kissing you…" Clara blushed at his comment.

"Babe, stop!"

"What, I love you?"

"Gaster's here…"

"And? He's seen me naked hundreds of times, he can deal with me kissing someone." Gaster faked vomiting into his garbage.

"See what you cause, Grillbert?"

"Nah, that's just from all that candy you eat."

"No, I think it's your stench of love sickness."

"You bet your non-existent ass, I am!" He snuggled closer to Clara, making her giggle. "And I don't care who sees!" He reached up and kissed Clara, holding her head. She pulled back.

"Babe, Gaster…" Clara noted with a glance at the skeleton.

"And I said that I don't care who sees…" He kissed her again. The intoxicating twist in the bond dragged Clara deep out of reality, no longer aware of where she was. The only thing she was aware of was the pure bliss and unconditional love she was being given. Something ripped her out of this.

"_Enough_!" Gaster yanked Grillby off of her by his collar, who hissed sparks in protest. "You're not a cat, stop that! But if you so insist, then git!" He shoved the feline into the now opened door, who lurked away. He turned to Clara, whose hair was now frazzled and blinked like she was lost. "Well, I think now is the perfect time more than any to teach you about _controlling your bond, Grillbert!_" He half spoke to her and half yelled at Grillby, who knew damn well how to control his. Gaster tugged his crinkled sweater down and began their lesson.

**Author's Notes: Late again -_- ... Sorry, guys! This is honestly a bit of a background chapter that could have been done without, but I really wanted to show the other side that the veteran have. Gaster often looked over Grillbs a lot in the war, and clearly still does. Grillby wasn't... the smartest elemental... Very good with plans and tactics, but in battle? He did some pretty stupid shit! **

** The lessons that Clara has are mostly just about controlling the magic involved in her bond. It's not magic like the monsters have. **

** Not much to say about this chapter. The next one will have a little surprise guest! I waited so long to write them in, and they get their own chapter, so hold on tight!**

**Stay Safe, Lovelies~!**


	21. Chapter 21: Strange Behaviors

Chapter 21: Strange Behaviors

Grillby ran so fast to the knock at their door that he almost did not stop in time, flinging it open.

"Dad!" A 5'4" green fire leaped into his arms as he spun her around.

"I haven't seen you in months! How's my little Sek-ka?" He put her down and beamed at the sight of his niece. She giggled at the nickname.

"Good, nothing new! But…" Fuku bounced on her toes in excitement. "Tell me, tell me! I heard they're a human! Is she nice, she's gotta be crazy hot for someone like you!" Grillby laughed and brought her inside. He was glad that Gaster gave them clearance to put the doors back up and take the locks off. The windows were opened as much as possible, relishing the fresh air.

"Calm down, Fuku, she's here! Clara!"

"Ooo, Clara! That's a pretty name." She teased her uncle with her elbow.

"Stop…" But he just blushed. Fuku had been trying to hook up her uncle, and basically her unofficially adopted dad, since she was able to comprehend what a couple was. Clara came out from their bedroom, decked out in the most formal casual outfit she could throw together. No matter how many times Grillby saw it, he couldn't help but send her feelings of giddy joy and admiration through their bond. "Fuku, this is Clara, my bonded. Clara, this is Fuku, my niece." Clara was still shy around new people, and being this was one of the two relatives he had left, the pressure to impress was most certainly on.

"N-Nice to meet you, Fuku. Grillby has said a lot of good things about you!" _Did I say too much?_

"Same here! And _someone_ hasn't told me anything!" She aimed at Grillby, who just looked away with a quiet voice.

"We all have our reasons, dear…" He felt guilty having kept this from his niece, someone who he told everything. They could confide in each other about anything, and often did. Hopefully keeping quiet this time won't ruin everything…

"Guess we'll just have to have some girl time then, huh? Come on, I know this awesome café with cinnamon bunni-"

"Hold it right there, Fuku, there's a few things you need to know first." Grillby wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Clara fidgeted, knowing what was coming and took a step back. "Clara is on a strict diet right now, so nothing food related, alright?" Fuku eyed Clara judgingly, before her face turned to realization.

"Oh, I thought you looked weird!"

"Fuku, what the hell?" Grillby yelled, holding his arms open.

"No, I'm sorry, I mean I thought that there was something off. My friend is anorexic too, I get it!" She held her hand out. Clara was not sure whether to be shocked, complimented, or scared out of her skin that she found out so quickly. "You have a log, right?" A little frantic, she nodded and ran to grab the papers Grillby had been keeping of her eating habits from the counter. "Cool! Can we get something to eat now?" She asked her uncle, who was just as beside himself.

"I… Wait, what friend?"

"Confidential!" She winked. He squinted and gave her a quick once over to make sure this wasn't some sort of 'my friend, but I'm really talking about myself' scenario. "Come on, dad, I know the rules!" He looked to Clara, his niece, the papers, and sighed.

"That paperwork better be filled out perfectly… I don't want Gaster to have my head again. _And_ your friend better be getting help!"

"He is!" With that, she grabbed Clara's hand as they raced out to an old, grey Mercury Sable.

"No speeding! Watch out for idiots, they're everywhere!" The uncle yelled after them. _Great, now I have two people to worry about…_

"So, what're you up for?" Fuku asked as she started the car.

"Um… Anything, really." Clara shied away.

"Ugh! Well me too! What do you like?"

"Japanese?"

"_Yes_! I know this awesome place!" This said place was a small attachment to another building in town named 'Haiku,' as stereotypical as that was. "So, how'd you and dad meet?" She said, sitting at a table.

"Um… Gaster actually introduced us…"

"… And, go on!" She leaned in, resting her chin in her hands. She acted like a schoolgirl, doe eyed and excitable. From what Clara had gathered, Fuku was currently in college.

"Uh… You're gonna find out anyway, but it's not a happy story…" She tucked her hands under herself.

"Oh… Well, only if you want to!" Like Clara had a choice, it was either tell her here or at a possibly worse time.

"I was dating this asshole who abused me pretty badly. Gaster found me drugged and afterwards brought me to Grillby's for dinner. Something about co-workers. I was so out of it that day."

"Oh shit… Knowing dad, he's either dead or arrested!"

"Arrested. He went to my apartment and Schnyder came and all… The police captain." Clara elaborated.

"I know her, Nadia's cool! So, dad swooned you from there. How'd you swoon him?"

"Swoon him? No, no, no, I didn't, I mean I didn't mean to. I don't even know when I… No, I never swooned him!"

"Clara, no one just catches dad's eye. You've gotta be something special to him. _Really_ special." She poured what seemed like oil into her water and sipped it. "I'll find out anyway!" She winked, picking up her menu. "So, did'ja do it?"

"Do… what?" _Please don't tell me you're talking ab-_

"Ugh, Clara!" She leaned in a whispered. "I know you're bonded, so you had to have!"

"He's your dad, or uncle, why would you want to know that?"

"Okay, he's not _really_ my dad. And we're super close! I told him my first experience, so he's gonna tell me anyway! Whatever you say is between us girls though, promise!"

"We… haven't… I'm still injured from that asshole before. Not much, but not healed enough for that…" _I just met this girl, and I'm already talking about my sex life?_ Fuku's flames suddenly spurted darker as she glowered at her.

"… Never let me meet this guy, because I _will_ kill him… I have no tolerance for that shit…" But Clara laughed at this.

"You're so much like Grillby!"

"I better be, dad's awesome!" A waiter came by and took their orders.

"So, why do you call him dad anyway?"

"Because my real dad is a prick who left my mom. Grillby's a much better dad!"

"I'll take your word for it."

"You'll know soon enough anyways, right?" The insinuation made Clara almost fly out of her chair. "What?"

"W-W-We just bonded, I don't even know if I want kids, or if he wants ki-"

"Wait, what? How can you be bonded and not know?"

"I don't know, apparently there's a lot I don't know and-and- ugh, I don't know!" She curled her head into her arms on the table. Fuku giggled and pat her head.

"Well, dad's up for either, really. I'm like his daughter, so he doesn't really _need_ to have a kid. How would an elemental and human baby work anyway?"

"Fuku… I'd appreciate it if you did not make me think about that…"

"I think you'd have awesome babies!" Clara flew her head up and glared at her.

"Fuku!" The green elemental laughed, saying something in another language to the server who brought their food. It was only then that Clara realized that the food on her plate were all incorporated together. "Damn it…"

"Guess you'll have to eat it all, huh?" Fuku sang, knowing well enough what she was and was not allowed to do. "Can't get that paperwork messed up."

_Oh, this girl…_ The whole time they ate, Fuku inquired about the nonexistent dates they've had, what Grillby acts like now that he's in love, a few unintentionally insensitive questions regarding humans, and such. She had managed to distract Clara so much that she had finished her lunch. This made the recovering anorexic and bulimic feel guilty. It was such a massive portion in comparison to her usual ones, and those noodles were probably loaded in carbs and who knows what else.

"Let's go, I wanna ask dad about you!" She took her credit card that was returned to her by the server and led Clara back to their car. The ride suddenly felt far bumpier and as if it had more curves than before.

"Fuku, can you pull over a second?" Clara was leaning over herself, sounding dejected. The elemental had noticed her discomfort since the restaurant, but complied a moment later, rubbing her back. "Thanks…"

"We're home, actually." But she didn't move. "I don't wanna be mean, but I you get sick in my car-"

"I won't, I won't." After a few minutes of this, Clara took a large breath and sat up. "I think I'm good." Fuku was back to her vibrant self as they walked up to the house.

"I'm telling you, you've _gotta_ try dad's udon when you're sick. It's the best!" Fuku insisted as Clara went to open the door. The second the door cracked a bit, the young elemental grabbed the door, holding it still with a whisper. "Shh, hold on a sec…" Slowly, they peaked their heads inside, music playing, something going along with it. It seemed like an old-styled song, but the sound quality was up to date with a hint of pop. "Look!" Fuku hissed as they caught a glimpse of her uncle at the counter, cooking something. All Clara could see was a towel hanging from his belt loop. Was he… singing?

"Feels like my heart is going to burst. Alone at a table for two, and I just wanna be served. And when you think of me, am I the best you've ever had? Share one more drink with me, smile even though you're sad." He continued on, oblivious to the girls as they closed the door again.

"That's… weird…" Fuku pondered at the door.

"What?"

"He _never_ sings. Okay, well, he does. Just very rarely, when he's super happy. And alone, but that's because he's shy about it. _And_ he was singing a pop song. A _love_ pop song! Clara, he _hates_ those songs!" She grabbed Clara's upper arms in emphasis.

When Fuku was in her early teens, by elemental years, she often listened to love pop songs, and Grillby could always be found brooding when those songs were on. He would mumble that they were 'unrealistic' and 'too happy.' Even Fuku had to admit, they could get a bit sickening with some boy bands. The elemental thought back to when she walked in on her uncle singing once, and he was flustered and embarrassed the whole day. Walking back to the car, she opened and nearly slammed her door closed.

During the instrumental bridge, Grillby heard a car door close.

"Fuck!" He hissed as he dropped the sauté pan, scrambling around for the speaker remote on the nook. Pressing the 'change album' button that he had preset for such an emergency, he tried to act calm, taking up the pan containing his lunch again. As if on cue, the front door opened.

"Hey, dad!" Fuku chirped, Clara right behind her.

"Hey, girls. How was lunch?" He mentally slapped himself for sounding like a stereotypical bad actor from a cheesy Hallmark movie. Just as Fuku was about to respond, Grillby delved into a coughing fit, holding up one finger before he started digging through a kitchen drawer. He tried to talk between coughs. "S-Sorry, give m-me a secon-" He pulled out what seemed to be an asthma inhaler and took a puff. Regardless of trying to hold his breath, his chest sputtered to want to cough for a few more moments. Coughing out, he heaved air into his deprived lungs before taking another puff. "S-Sorry… That happens sometimes. Anyway, how was lunch?" He wheezed.

"It was okay. You're not smoking again, right, Dad?"

"Unless I want a dusting sentence by Gaster, no, dear."

"Just checkin'! Oh, I gotta do your chart!" Fuku hopped up to the nook, starting to scribble down numbers. "She ate the whole meal, dad!" Grillby stopped, turning between the two.

"Really? That's wonderful, Clara, I'm so proud of you!" He bubbled as he gave the pan a flick, flipping its contents. Why did they have to remind her of that before her stomach was able to fully settle?

"Thanks…" She lowered her voice.

"How're you feeling?" He asked, but Fuku jumped in.

"She looked like she was gonna be sick before."

"I'm not surprised, but still. My poor dear…" He was still smiling as his brows curled up, one hand on his hip and one on the nook. Fuku saw how her uncle was beaming with joy.

"It was a big meal, I'm fine now, really." But just saying that made her stomach flip. She went to the ice dispenser and took some, eyeing him in reference to his attempt to grab ice before, and popped one in her mouth. The niece eyed her from nook, still filling out the meal chart. "By the way, babe, you're about to get reamed by Fuku." She spoke around the ice.

"Oh, I figured…" He rolled his eyes as said elemental gave him a crooked smile. "Just how much did she tell you, anyway, my dearest niece…"

"Plenty, my virgin uncle." Clara's ice rocketed out of her mouth across the kitchen, her face already entirely red before she began a small coughing fit. Grillby was furious.

"Fuku! What have we said about disclosing information that does not concern you?"

"Well, is it not true?"

"Again, that does not concern you…"

"Guess it is then!"

"It most certainly is not! Just because I've never bonded before, doesn't mean that I've never done it before!"

"Well, it was so long ago, you might as well be…" She was full on teasing him now, ignorant to his embarrassment fueled rage. Fed up, Grillby slapped his kitchen towel on the counter and stormed off to his room, Clara trotting after. "And so, the games have started…" She connived.

Fuku was still at the nook, eyeing Clara so judgmentally as she closed the door to her and Grillby's room it was horrifying, with a 'I know what you just did' look on her face. Clara tried her best to ignore her as she sat on the couch. Grillby had left some cooking challenge show on.

"So, Aunt Clar-"

"We did nothing!"

"Then where's dad?"

"He… wanted to be alone… We were talking about during the war, okay…"

"Nice try, I know about _that_ and the war, and I know it's not a trigger for him." She sat next to her, but Clara shrugged.

"I don't know what to tell you, this time it was…" Fuku looked almost hurt.

"What? He's never… I'm calling Gaster!" Clara clamped her hands down in a bear hug before she could grab her phone, halfway lying against Fuku, who tried to fight back.

"Don't, he'll be fine! Unless it's a hallucination, he doesn't need to know!"

"That's not what I was told!"

"He's fine!"

"Why are you so persistent? I'm trying to protect him!"

"He doesn't need it, he just needs to think, it's not a panic attack!" Fuku stopped squirming, calming down.

"What? Geez, you need to elaborate more…" With Clara still wrapped around her, Grillby walked up.

"And to think I'd be cheated on by my own niece…" He smirked. Fuku wrapped her arms around Clara, now trapping her.

"Hell yeah, she's mine now! Sorry, dad!" Grillby shrugged, heading to make a cup of coffee while his lunch finished marinating in the pan.

"I know when I've been beat…" Clara did not know what to do, so she stayed there while being comfortably trapped between gentle arms and… her bonded niece's breasts… Grillby eyed them as he sat in his recliner. "Uh… I hope I'm not actually being cheated on here." He teased, but Fuku released her prisoner. Clara couldn't help but inch a little towards Grillby. She didn't know what to say, still a little flustered over everything that was just insinuated.

"By the way, you seemed a bit _panicked_ when we came back. I thought you didn't mind me _pop_ping in on your _bachelor_ pad." Fuku snidely smirked at him, crossing her arms and legs. The elder stopped with his cup halfway against his lips. He eyed her with massive eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't know, you were just acting like _Urie_ trouble." Hearing this, Clara slumped back a little, wanting nothing more than to stay out of this battle. Fuku was enraptured by this whole exchange._ So. Much. Blackmail!_ She often innocently blackmailed her uncle into buying her a piece of clothing or food. Nothing big. Grillby sighed over the rim, staring at the television.

"Fine… Just don't say anything, okay?" He gave her an adoring parental smile, which she accepted with a nod. He felt the urge to say that 'if anyone found out, it'd be the _death_ of me,' but it quickly dissipated. He never joked about death.

"So, how was Haiku?" He sipped.

"The new chef is okay. The old one was way better!"

"No one is better at udon than Mr. Hachiko, Fuku, we all know that."

"Yeah, this chef just didn't season it right, and they probably go to a different wholesaler now because the chicken was _not_ the same…" The elementals continued to talk about food as Clara wondered what Fuku did for a living.

"They need someone like you, dad! When you made me that nabeyaki, ugh, the best!" Grillby chuckled at his niece.

"I'd rather keep to my bar, dear, but I appreciate it. Speaking of which…" Checking the time, Grillby got up, shut the television off, and started gathering his things and packed his lunch. "I've gotta get going. Clara, do you wanna stay here with Fuku or come with me?" But Fuku butt in first.

"I wanna come too!"

"Well, that settles that then." He was glad to be able to spend more time with his niece. Clara suddenly felt very alone. She didn't want to intrude on their time together. From what she could pick up, these two rarely had time together anymore. "Call your mom and let her know." He never got along with his sister, so Fuku was all he had left. Clara couldn't get in the way of that.

"I think I'm gonna just hang out here, if that's okay…" Clara stayed sitting, curling her feet under herself. Of course, Grillby was concerned, ushering Fuku to wait in the car.

"You know you're not allowed to be alone yet, hon. Do you wanna go to Gaster, I wouldn't mind bringing you." He was gentle and tread on eggshells as he sat next to her, which annoyed Clara for some reason.

"No, it's fine…"

"Baby, you need to pick one. You just ate too, you know better tha-"

"Would you just leave me alone?" Clara snapped, unintentionally giving his leg a swift hammer fist. He was surprised, of course, but looked disappointed as he took her hand, uncurling her fist.

_Now you did it…_

"I get it, you're frustrate-"

"I'm not!"

"Then why else would you be doing this, hon?" She refused to look at him.

_Even after you hit him, he still cares. Perhaps you're the abuser now. He pampers you hand and foot, just like you did for him. You trained him…_

"Are you scared of Fuku?"

"No, she's nice…"

"Are you tired of being with me all the time, because I get it, being with someone for days on end can be really tiring."

"No…" _See how much he's trying? No one ever tries that hard unless they're trained to._ "Do whatever you want."

"… Clara, I am doing what I want. I don't understand."

_Am I abusing him? Why does everything seem fake, like everything is acted out?_

"Clara, what's wrong?"

"I just want to be alone…" She pulled her hand back and scooted away, turning so she could text on her phone without him seeing.

"I can't do that, hon… You sure you don't want to be with Gaster?" She ignored him now, texting said doctor on her phone.

"Hey Gaster I really wanna be alone can you tell Grillby to stop bugging me?" She sent. Grillby pushed her phone down.

"Why don't you want to talk all of a sudden? You know you can be in the back like usual, babe." Her phone went off and she tried to look down at it, but it was covered by his hand. "Is this from the imbalance?" The two men had been waiting for Clara unavoidable hormonal imbalance to rear its horrifying head, but for some reason it did not yet.

"No, I just want to be alone, is that so much to ask?"

"Yes, it is!" Clara yanked her phone back and saw the text.

"Have him drop you off, I've got an idea so you can be physically alone." Gaster's text sent a glimmer of hope through her as she showed it to Grillby.

"I… okay, that's perfectly fine, baby, why didn't you just ask me?" Clara groaned and marched out the door, sitting in the back seat with Fuku as opposed to the passenger seat.

"I'm not gonna ask…" She said more to her phone, but suddenly Clara got a text from an unknown number.

"You okay? This is Fuku btw!" _Gee, thanks for not asking…_ But it was better than talking, especially since Grillby just got into the car. He was hesitant, as if to say something, but drove off.

"I've been watched by him or Gaster for weeks now and I feel like I'm going insane with them."

"Yeah they have that effect on you! Are you going to Gaster now this isn't the way to the bar?"

"Yeah, he says he has an idea. Hope I won't regret this." Fuku tried not to laugh reading this, which made Clara smile a little. The driver saw this in his rearview mirror, keeping quiet.

"Isnt he your boss or something?"

"Not really, we've never gotten around to actually doing work or whatever."

"Hes a workaholic so thats surprising!"

"Yeah, he's lost track of my sessions several times. It's kinda funny." Soon, they were pulling up to the labs, Grillby getting out with Clara. "I'll see you later. Sorry…" She said, but Fuku got out too.

"Fuku, we'll only be a second, you can wai-"

"I wanna see Gaster!" Grillby knew better than to fight his niece on something small such as this that she wanted. There was no harm in it. In reality, she wanted to be there for Clara. They walked through the building to the personal study, scientists greeting the all too familiar couple. Gaster was actually outside his office, doing something on his phone before he spotted the trio. "Hi'ya Gaster!" Fuku bounded up and gave him a side-hug.

"Oh, hello, Fuku, good to see you! How are your cultural studies going?" Before she could answer, her uncle cleared his throat, digressing their conversation.

"Sorry, but I'm late as it is…" He guided Clara beside Gaster. "I'll… see you later…" Taking Fuku's arm, he left, silent and forlorn. Fuku gave him a disgusted look, whispering something that he didn't bother to hear.

"First fight, huh?" Gaster looked down to her.

"No… I don't think so… Should I…?" She pointed to him, but Gaster sighed.

"I don't think so. He needs some space too, I think. Wanna see that idea I had?" Nodding to him, they walked down the hall and into what looked like a large sunroom filled with couches and chairs. "I've always loved this room…" Clara parted and looked around as he waited by the door. "I'll be in my office with the door open if you need anything. But remember…" She turned and saw him pointing to one of the security cameras. Clara _loved_ this idea, racing forward and nearly tackling him into a hug.

"Thank you!" She darted back to one of the windows, taking in the hidden beauty that was behind the labs. Green houses and botanical gardens spotted the grounds, monsters and humans milling about their works carrying planter trays and tools. She could watch them all day, and so she did. Gaster watched from a small window on his monitor as Clara stood there alone, then sat on the couch, then lied down and watched the sun go down, till she was softly sleeping. Smiling to himself, he took his blanket and tucked her in, turning off the lights and closing the sunroom's door. Without Clara's movements nor the sun as an indicator of time, Gaster worked endlessly till he was started by a deep voice behind him.

"Need I ask?" Gaster grasped his sternum, jumping a good two inches out of his chair. He should have known it was Grillby based on the fact that his room was no longer illuminated by just the punitive monitor.

"Star's sake, Grillbert! A little warning! Ask about what?" Gaster rubbed his 'chest' a little to calm down.

"Clara!" He all but went from calm to full on panic in a matter of seconds. "You did remember that she was here, right?" Gaster waved him off.

"Oh, yes, yes, she's fine. See?" He showed him the sunroom's camera, Clara still curled up on the couch. "What time is i- 2 o'clock? Damn it, every time…" It seemed as if he didn't care though, going back to his work regardless of the early hour. "Oh, what was with before?" He didn't move his exhausted eyes from the screen.

"I just… wasn't really up for fighting with her anymore."

"You fought? Didn't seem like it to me."

"You know I don't _actually_ fight with people, G, it was…" He slumped onto the couch. Gaster might as well start charging these two what with all the therapy he's been handing out. "… she refused to be with me for no reason at all, then she started ignoring me, chose to talk to you over me… Like… I don't get it. We're bonded." Grillby was starting to think that Gaster was ignoring him, but he responded a moment later.

"Being bonded means nothing in this case. She's fed up with being watched. She can't even take a piss without our ears pressed against the damn door; you mean to tell me that over a week of that wouldn't make you on edge? She's been eating limited foods, constantly watched, 'go here,' 'go there,' 'do this,' all the while trying to understand what it means to be her own person again, while in a relationship where she's already bonded, a concept that she knew close to nothing about…"

"You're rambling, G."

"My point is that I'm surprised that she didn't snap at you on the third day of this." He said to the computer. The elemental sighed in defeat.

"I know… Truth is, while I shouldn't be in comparison to what she's been through, I'm fed up too. I'm exhausted, stressed, confused… I've had the same routine for 1,500 years, and now I'm in a relationship, on the surface, dealing with mental issues I haven't had to confront in centuries, trying to run a business single-handedly, I need to start working on my early summer menu-"

"You're rambling, Grillbz…" Gaster teased. "Maybe you two should spend some time apart. Your bond should be plenty solidified enough by now. Heh, Papyrus keeps asking when she'll visit again. Keeps mentioning something about a double-date, not-date thing. I think he want him and Clara to go as a Platonical date with Sans and Frisk."

"Those two _still_ aren't together?"

"Well… That's what they say…" Gaster smirked, knowing all too well how much his son is like him; meaning Sans was indeed in love, but was too much of a coward when it comes to social interactions that require commitment, family aside. Parties lasted one night, lunch lasted a few hours, but dating? The scientist thanked Asgore that he had no romantic desire in any fiber of his bones.

"She is _not_ going on some date-not date!" The room lit up a touch.

"Jealous much?"

"I think I have a right to be…" He pouted, slouching and crossing his arms.

"You act like such a child…" Gaster teased. With a massive yawn, Grillby got up.

"Go home, G, it's way too late. I'll see ya' tomorrow…" He waved and shuffled to the sunroom to collect his turtle.

"I'll go home in… a… sec…." Gaster does not even remember having ever said this, working through the night.

**. **** .**

**Author's Notes: This was kind of a 2-in-1 chapter. Fuku and Grillby's relationship is so special to me for some reason! Just the absolute transparency of their connection and full respect. Fuku is, aside from Gaster and Asgore, the only person who knows his entire story about the war. What conversations that are typically awkward for people aren't awkward for them. When you're uncle and best friend grew up in a tent with thirty filthy, 'thirsty,' arrogant elementals, who also had a prudish prick as a friend, awkwardness isn't a thing.**

** Btw, Sek-ka is a nickname that derives from Grillby's mother's name, and ka meaning 'little' in elemental. His mother's name, Sek, comes from Sekhmet, the Egyptian Goddess, daughter of Ra, the sun god. To elementals, her name means 'daughter of the sun'. Roughly, Sek-ka means 'little sun.' **

** Only TWO MORE CHAPTERS! I have some extras I will be posting, like Q&As, extra scenes, etc...**

**Stay Safe, Lovelies!**


	22. Chapter 22: Checking In

Chapter 22: Checking In

Clara sat there, fidgeting as she rested her head against Grillby's arm. She'd been quiet all morning, silently pondering as to whether or not the day was going to be good. Her thoughts only wavered as her bonded slipped his arm around her, speaking through their bond.

'Whatever happens happens, dear. Just try to keep your chin up.' He contently sighed as essences of compassion ebbed between them.

"Clara Avery?" A feminine voice called from around the corner of the large waiting room. They had chosen to sit in the row against the wall, facing away from the secretary window, almost as if they were hiding. Chilling nerves spiked through the girl, causing her to rush as she stood up and had to force herself to walk slower. "Oh, there you are. Right this way." The nurse said, walking down the hall before Clara could walk up. She knew that the young woman was aware of the lay out as much she did. Clara felt more alone as she left Grillby behind, having agreed prior that she wanted to do this by herself, something that made the elemental's hope surge.

Down the hall, make a left, third door on the right was a small examination room with just enough space for an examination bed, counter, sink, chair, and room to walk. Clara accepted the disposable, paper gown, that she always found almost demeaning for some reason, from the nurse.

"The doctor will be right in." The door shut, and now she was trembling, trying her best to get undressed and keep her breathing quiet. She was not hyperventilation, but in the quiet room, everything seemed far louder. Although, her heart was pulsing almost deafeningly in her ears. Stripped down to the gown, socks, and underwear, Clara silently stepped up to sit on the examination bed. She thought she'd be grateful to have a moment to steady her nerves before the doctor came in, but the wait seemed to only make it worse. There was a slight scratching drag from beside the door. They were looking at her information, but almost instantly knocked on the door and entering upon receiving permission.

"Well you look as stiff as the day we met." Gaster smirked, putting her clipboard down and rubbing her arms. "You doing okay?" She just looked away, suddenly wanting to cry. "Nervous?" Clara nodded in a rush. "Aw, dear. Want Grillby to come in?" She shook her head, choosing to uphold her decision. "Okay." Even with his soothing voice and gentle hands, he felt her give a small shiver. "You poor thing…" Gaster pulled her into a hug. This was just what she wanted from her father figure, greedily holding him back as a rouge tear or two slipped past her defense. "It's going to be better this time, I promise."

After her and Grillby's bond, close to four months back, Clara was given a partial physical. Her weight was already reaching 87 pounds, only eight pounds from when she started receiving help. But the shock of having gained that much caused a severe panic attack. Had Grillby not been in the room, Gaster would not have been able to partially restrain her from what would have probably resulted in her accidentally hurting herself.

After a minute or so, Clara pulled away, sniffing a little as she blinked away another tear. Gaster knew she was scared of having another episode like before, and could understand why. In all honesty, he wished she brought Grillby in this time, but this was going to be a full physical.

"Let's do the small things first, okay?" He talked about work, something that Clara had slowly started easing into after taking Gaster up on his offer, all the while looking into her eyes, ears, mouth, before listening to her breathing. She knew that it was all over the place, calm one moment and erratic the next. The doctor gave a light chuckle. "You make Grillby look calm." This was something that she too could attest to now. Just before Clara's last check-up, Gaster practically forced Grillby to have one as well. Clara exhaled a laugh thinking back on it.

_ "I don't need a stupid check-up!"_

_ "You haven't had one in over half a decade, Grillby!" A slight click came from the door as Gaster's eye faded from a dark purple. Scowling, the elemental went to leave, but the door was locked. "Grillbert…"_

_ "Let me out!" He all but pleaded, keeping his hand on the knob and almost cowering._

_ "Just a few basics, it's not like I'm doing an operation. Come sit dow-"_

_ "Why should I?"_

_ "Uh… so I'm not scrunched in the corner, like you are. You've dealt with surgeries; you can at least let me listen to your soul." Gaster glanced to Clara, giving an eye roll and a smirk, as if to say 'see what I deal with.' Looking back, Grillby was still frozen in place. "Oh, for the love of the stars…" He muttered under his breath as he approached him. Being rather close in height, Gaster did not need to crane his neck down like he usually had to with patients, something he was thankful for. He crossed his arms and stared into Grillby's eyes, then to his mouth, then to his chest._

_ "W-What are you doing?" _

_ "Looking at how your pupils adjust to the light when you blink… And I can very easily hear you breathing, so there's that. It also helps that you're so worked up that I can literally see your soul beating in your chest. So, either we do the check-up like this, or you can calm down and let me do it properly." There was a bit of bite to his words, and the scolding seemed to work. Grillby huffed through his nose and leaned against the door, his brows slightly drawn together as Gaster went to work, regardless of him standing. _

The doctor finished up with her blood work, something she barely noticed with how gentle he was. He stepped out of the room for a moment and came back, the vials gone from his hands.

"Okay, come on onto the scale." He spoke quietly. Clara slowly slid down, her knees feeling a touch weak. She turned her back and let Gaster guide her up onto it, being that he did not allow her to see her weight. Clara shut her eyes tight as fear rippled through her when she listened to those clattering balances slide before being nudged into equilibrium. They raced harshly back down to one side. "Okay, that's done." She could not get off the scale fast enough, unable to resist a glance at the numbers, but knew Gaster had already reset it. Her feet felt dirty through her socks from standing on it, as if it was contaminating her. "Let's sit for now, okay?" Gaster soothed, sitting her into a chair as he sat on his rolling stool, the typical one in all doctor's offices. "I'm very proud of you, you know. You really are trying har-"

"How much?" She didn't want to hear all the words of encouragement, feeling as though they belittled her, that she could not handle the reality of it. Gaster sighed out the rest of his sentence and looked down a moment, before looking back to her.

"103." Gaster could not help the smile to beam through, his single brow arching up in an affectionate manner. Clara stared at him blankly, processing what she just heard.

"I'm past the one hundred mark…?"

"Yes. Clara, this is an amazing accomplishment! You look healthy, you look normal, you look beautiful! I'm ecstatic that you're not the same girl I met, because that girl was dying. Clara… You're _alive_!" Even though she knew this all to be true, there was a bitterness to it all.

There's something about the hundred pounds mark that is set in an anorexic or bulimic's mind, a gauge. It's almost an achievement to have gotten that far, and one can finally consider themselves relatively thin. Relatively attractive. Relatively ideal. But there is no limit. One hundred is a threshold of 'eating disorder acceptance,' in that person's mind. For someone recovering, gaining back up and past that hundred mark is like losing it all. Clara did not think much, but tried to let it settle in her mind.

_This is what it is. It's not going to change. I'm just going to gain more weight. That's it. It's just a number. This is supposed to be good. It is good. I want to be better, just not…_ She wanted to say fat, ugly, disgusting, but Gaster had been slowly teaching her out of those habits and mindsets.

"I wasn't exactly expecting you to be jumping up and down; I know this is conflicting. We do need to finish though." Gaster continued, holding a holed-hand out for her. After a moment, she nodded, standing with him. He stood her in front of a tall mirror mounted on the wall. "Whenever you're ready." He stood at the counter with his back to her, writing down on her medical record.

Shaking hands pulled at the gown's ties, letting it limply lie from her. Clara tugged on the front and let it slip off, looking at herself in the mirror, in nothing but her underwear and bra. She resisted a sneer when she saw her thighs almost touching, when she could barely make out the ridging on her sternum, when the smooth inwards dip she used to have between her hips bubbled outwards. Even her breasts were slightly bigger, and even that made her former self disappointed. Turning sideways, she felt emotions tingle her nose when she saw her upper arms had a slight chub to them. Gaster had been holding her there before… Her behind bumped out now over the backs of her legs by two or three inches.

_No, no numbers. Just look…_ She had to remind herself. No more calculations, no more analyzing, no more measuring. Just look and accept… Clara turned so she could see her back. It was interesting to her how much weight one can lose in their back. When Clara went against Gaster's word and measured her upper torso, there was a substantial amount of change. She already had four more inches around there, and not from her bust! She saw her spine still, but it was slowly disappearing as it descended. She turned forward to the mirror again, arms at her sides.

"Okay." She murmured. Gaster turned and stood. While many people who do not know about eating disorders would find this to be inappropriate, it was necessary. The best way to gauge a patient's progress was how their body had changed from one point in time to another. This was the reason that Grillby was not in the room; aside from Clara not being comfortable about her body, even with her bonded, the elemental would have flown off the handle had he seen Gaster looking at Clara in such a state of indecency. The doctor did not touch her, but paid attention to each target section: stomach, hips, upper torso, back, thighs, calves, upper arms, and even her clavicle.

"I do see some signs of muscle development, which is very good. Arms up a little… I think we could start a muscle training plan, but it is to be only when designated. If I find out you are working out outside of it, it will be cancelled until I say otherwise… Weight distribution seems equal…" He stopped when he looked at her back, nodding. "Good, your lower back is important to keep well protected." He returned to face her directly, his face dropping a touch. "Your neck and clavicle, though…" He gently pressed around, seeing what in the area was what. "Still could use more." He tapped the deep delve in her collar bone. She always liked that, though… Gaster now examined her face. "You have more color than last time, and your hair is far healthier. Your eyes are whiter…" He pinched the skin on the back of her hand, seeing how it sprung back. "Even your complexion has improved." He took both her hands, inspecting her nails, pressing them down and seeing how quickly the color returns. "I think it's safe to say that your anemia is decreasing. Keep this up and it'll be gone." He smiled to her, holding her hands in his in a more affectionate manner. "I say it so much it's lost its meaning, but… I'm so proud of you… I could not even imagine what you looked like healthy when I first met you. I'm glad I got the chance to." They took a moment looking at each other to silently share a parental moment. Gaster pat one of her hands. "Get dressed and I'll go get the worry-wart." He gently smiled as he picked up Clara's gown, slipping it on her shoulders. Once she held it closed, he left just before she redressed.

Gaster knocked and cracked the door.

"Clara, meet me upstairs when you're ready, alright? … Clara?" The silence heaved Gaster's soul down, causing him to look inside. Thankfully, she was alright. She was sitting on the step of the examination bed, fully dressed, seemingly thinking as she blankly stared at the floor, then questioningly up at him. "You alright?" He smiled with a troubled brow. Clara had a tendency of doing this after a check-up or physical, so it was not entirely concerning. She just got up with a slouch and took his hand, her head down the entire way up to his office.

Grillby was already there, on that same couch, his knee bouncing in anticipation. The two entered the room, and Gaster handed Clara off to him. Over the past months, Grillby became more accepting of how Gaster and Clara showed their parent and child affection, so seeing them hold hands was not as bothersome. She sat down beside him, still lost in thought as he seeped understanding support through their bond. Gaster took his usual chair.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that I have all good news." He started, causing the elemental to perk his head up to him like a dog who just heard their owner's car door close. "She's at 103 pounds, her anemia shows signs of decreasing, she has muscle development, and there seems to be no complications whatsoever." The doctor was grinning like a child, unable to take his eyes off of her. 'She's alive.' Grillby, however, did not react much besides a submissive smile as he turned to Clara.

"See, everything's okay. I know it's hard, but try to forget about it for a bit." He kissed the top of her head as a passive nod responded. Usually, she was back to her usual self by this time, but was enthralled by the number they were practically celebrating over.

"And…" Gaster continued, getting up and grabbing something from behind his desk. "I think these belong to you." He presented to her the clothes he had confiscated all those months ago. She looked at them in his hands, biting her lip. She shook her head. Both of the men were surprised at this. "You don't want them?" She shook her head again. "Hm…" Gaster nodded matter-of-factly. _Interesting… _

"They won't fit anyway…" Clara elaborated. Her and Grillby had to make another shopping day to buy clothes that actually fit her now, all bigger than currently necessary to accommodate for the continued weight gain.

"The Salvation Army knows us by name now…" Grillby chuckled. Gaster put the clothes aside, sitting back down.

"Your parents should know you're doing better; it would put them at ease." He knew he would want to know, being a father.

"When she's ready, G." The elemental pulled her gently against him. Clara stayed there a moment, before slowly pulling away. "You okay?"

_103… You're fat again. What, did you forget I was here? Did you forget my promise? I'm never leav-_

Clara got up and took the clothes, sitting back down as she held them close. Her brow quivered as she stared at the rug. Gaster stood up, standing at attention in front of her.

"Clara… Give. Me. The clothes." He held out his hand. _No, he gave them back to you._ "Now." _They're yours._ He grabbed them, slowly slipping them out of her arms. Once he had them, he put them out of sight, kneeling in front of her. "Clara… Wake up a little, dear." He pat her cheek gently. She let out a barely audible whimper, curling away. She was looking at him, so he smiled, but she didn't. He sat next to her, pulling her into his lap in a hug. "You don't need those clothes, they'll never fit again. And they should never fit again." Clara curled against him a little.

"Dad…"

"I'm here, I'm here." Something twinges inside her, making her want to run.

"She's still there…"

"That's okay, just ignore it. Listen to Grillby and me, remember? We're real, not that." He refused to give that voice a pronoun. It was not a real person. He held her there for a while, for however long she needed him. After a minute or two, Grillby took note to the time.

"She should eat, G." It had been several hours since she last ate, and what with the hypoglycemia, it was only making her mood worse. They found it was also a trigger for that voice. "Gaster?" It took a few pokes for him to realize they both fell asleep. "Of fucking course, you stayed up all night again." And he knew Clara barely slept due to her nerves last night as well. _I've got a little time to waste…_ Grillby grabbed one of the pillows, propped it against Clara's legs, and joined them in their nap.

. .

**Author's Notes: We're almost there! One more chapter, a few extras, and this story will be a wrap! **

** I like how Gaster and Clara have developed in a father-daughter relationship. While it's not like a normal paternal relationship, it works for them. **

** Recovering from anorexia is possibly the most difficult part of the disorder, but the like physics, it's hard to start, but once there is a rhythm, it get easier. That is why, even though Clara reached a crucial milestone, she did not have a panic attack.**

** Last chapter soon, and you ****_better_**** be prepared for some feels! **

**Stay Safe, Lovelies~!**


	23. Chapter 23: Life Goes On

Chapter 23: Life Goes On

Clara watched from the bed as her bonded got ready for the day. She was comfortably curled up in the sheets, relishing Grillby's lingering warmth. He was contently dressing for the day, knowing that his little turtle would not be bothered by his lack thereof, being that he figured she was still asleep. She watched as he sifted through his closet, the elongated scar beside his spine stretching as he did. His legs had a handful of whitened marks, but only a few seemed to have been severe. Even still, Clara wanted to reach out and wipe them away. He never gave recognition to his scars anymore; they had become as much of him as his own hands and face.

Finding what he was searching for, he pulled it down and turned back, tsk-ing at a wrinkle that had formed on the white shirt. He walked to the other side, too distracted by the blemish to notice the gazing eyes. He flicked on the shower and hung the shirt on the door, going to his dresser. The water masked the sound of Clara turning over to watch him. He dug around, a small smile gliding with a sigh. A nearly silent hum started as he plucked a few things out, abandoning them on the dresser. Going to his table now, he opened the middle drawer and stopped. Grillby did not realize it, but his voice swelled with emotion as he sang, bringing the chain to his neck, clasping it before smoothing his hands over it and to its silver and green pendant.

The song lulled as he turned around, reminiscing an aged smile as he cocked his head at the jewelry. He caught sight of a small set of eyes, following them till he closed them with a kiss.

"Good morning, my mischievous dear…" He smirked. Clara giggled.

"Morning…" She mumbled, sleep groveling her voice as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Bending his back up a little, he used her hug to pull her into a sitting position, joining beside her. It had become their daily ritual back when Clara was still in pain. It carried on regardless of the pain having long passed by now.

"Ready for today, turtle?" He melodized as she smoothed a hand over his chest.

"Little nervous… but yes." She smiled up to him, content in her life's choices. "I just don't want today to end… Ever." He placed his hand over her chest, their souls lighting slightly at the connection.

"Me either, but time doesn't wait. Speaking of, I'm sure that Fuku and your mom are going to be expecting you soon, as Gaster and Asgore I." Pulling her into a quick kiss, he got back up, gliding his hand through hers as he left for the shower. "Go get ready, Love, I'll be waiting for you."

"Wait!" Turning, he was slammed with a massive smooch that transferred to a thoughtful kiss. "Just once more till it's different…" Clara giggled, backing away, looking him over as if he would be what changed the next time she saw him. In actuality, it was partially true. He shared the same look, slowly closing the door between them.

Getting dressed in clothes she didn't care about, she gathered a few more things, said her goodbyes to the bathroom door that returned them, and went to the awaiting car outside. Once finished, Grillby too did the same after fluffing his head with a towel and a lingering smile. Today could not wait nor go fast enough at the same time. He locked their house, his belongings in hand with two small, special boxes in them, and got into the awaiting car.

"By the looks of it, I think I'm more nervous than you are." Gaster chuckled as he nitpicked Grillby a bit more in front of the groom's suite mirror, fixing the same spot on his bow tie that he had the past two hours.

"G, whatever happens happens… And I'm fine with what that 'whatever' is." He smiled, taking Gaster's hand away. "Thank you for doing this, my friend… I could not have asked for someone better."

"I just can't believe that… this is happening! I mean, how long has it even been, seven months?" Gaster now turned to himself in the mirror, trying to do whatever he can to fix something, anything.

"I think I've waited long enough, don't you?" Stepping away, Grillby opened one of the boxes on the table, taking a moment to bask in it before closing it once more. "Gaster, could you go check on everything inside, please?" With an obedient 'okay,' Gaster trotted out. Grillby reopened the box. "… You probably knew this would happen though, huh?"

"Grillbz, everything and everyone is set… whenever you are." Gaster returned about fifteen minutes later. Grillby only nodded from the mirror, his back turned.

"Thank you, Gaster… I think I am too."

Grillby did all he could to stand at attention, Asgore to one side and Gaster on another. He wore a three-piece suit, perfectly primed and pressed by the dear doctor. He looked out over the crowd, not caring one bit about the proud smiles and sentimentally glazed eyes.

Gaster had not noticed it until they stood there, Grillby having had his back to him since returning to the dressing room, but there was a new addition to his suit. A clasp connected the two lapels of his jacket. One side was an entanglement of gold leaves, and laid in them were red and yellow stones. An elegant gold chain branched over to a small gold sword, more of those jewels gracing its handle. Gaster knew instantly what this was. More so, who.

"He'd be immeasurably proud, you know. He would stand here now if he could."

"He is…" Was the general's only response, his grin somehow even broader.

The musically gifted ghost monster cued in gentle music that swelled over time. Grillby watched as his little Fuku led the group down the aisle, arm-in-arm with Clara's brother, Richard. He watched as his sister, Helies, roamed gracefully up beside Gaster, passing her hand over her brother's as she passed. Looking back up, Clara's parents marched slowly, shielding everyone from what was to come. With each row that was passed and that reacted, Grillby wanted to do nothing but run past her parents to what waited. They turned and sat in the front row, revealing her.

Trying her best to keep it together, Clara started to step painfully slow in her heels, her hands clenching her flowers all too tightly. Grillby did not know it till later, but a single tear slid down his face as she drifted one step closer, then another. Her dress was professionally tailored by the best seamstress they could afford. All the weight that she had gained back filled the dress perfectly. Her hair put feathers to shame, and made silk look like muck. He could have sworn that it took another 2,500 years for her to reach him. Ignoring what he was taught, Grillby closed in the last few feet between them, holding out a hand to her as she climbed the three steps up with him.

And there she was in front of him, as he held his bonded's hands, his niece guarding the bouquet, his friend, guardian, and savior beside him, his king on the other, and his reunited sister ebbing him on from behind. And a small ember on his lapel.

Neither of them recalled the words Asgore spoke to them, nor the promises they were to uphold. They all seemed so silly and redundant, insufficient in comparison to what they have already shown. But it still rang in their ears and souls for months when they heard the other confirm their marriage. They chose to change their ceremony from a normal one, vowing after they said 'I do.'

"Clara… Without you, I'd be a lonely barman, simply living day to day for the sake of it. I'd suffer alone at nights, missing my men… missing my Father. Missing the one woman who I loved in this life… When Gaster arrived with you, when he told me of what you had gone through, I realized I was living a horrid life. An empty life that I saw you saving. I gave you hope, but I don't think you realized at the time what you had given me. You gave me a life, turtle. And I will cherish it with every breath. I am lucky to be alive, yes, but only because you are in it. I say it all the time, and I know it gets stale by now, but I love you. And I swear by the Asgore that I will remain at your side. I swear by Gaster that I will give you your health and peace of mind. I swear by Fuku to give you happiness and joy. I swear by Helies to give you a family to hold and escape to. I swear by Bon to protect you from all harm. I swear by my mother, Sek, that I will never let you go, even beyond our passing… Clara Avery… I could have never asked for anyone greater in my life… Nor anyone else to share my life with." 'You will never be alone again, my Beauty.' Echoed in their bond. Clara chuckled a small cry as she realized it was her turn.

"I… Grillby, I…" She hiccupped a cry as she steadied herself. "You have genuinely saved my life. You saved me not only from physical and mental harm, but you have saved me from myself. I don't think there is any other way you can save someone. I just hope that I can give back what you have given me. I will give you a family. I will give you a reason to smile every moment. I will give you an escape from your past. I will give you closure from a world that scarred you. And I will open a new one, an empty one that you can fill with whatever you want, just as you did for me. I… oh, fuck it!" Abandoning the rest of her carefully crafted vow, she reached up, gripping the sides of Grillby's face and pulled him down to unceremoniously kiss him as deeply as she could. And he kissed back.

The hall was enveloped in a brilliant yellow and lavender light, nearly hazing the bonded from view. No one shielded their eyes. A few moments later, it dimmed as the two pulled away, but never losing their gaze. After a second of stunned silence, the crowd roared boorishly, a few jumping out of their seats. A few elders, including Gerson, bombastically chanted an ancient salute to their general. Still grinning like a madman, Grillby hoisted Clara up and spun her around twice before dropping her onto his shoulders into an embrace as they wept happily. Through his tears, Grillby looked up through the glass ceiling, swearing he saw a glimpse of gold in the clouds.

"I love you, my Turtle…"

"I love you too, and Grillby?" She raised her head, as he still held her slightly above him, and looked down to him. The sky embellished everything about her as his heart stilled at the sight.

"Yes, Love?"

"Thank you…"

. .

**Author's Notes: *Sharp inhale* It is done! This is definitely the most emotional chapter in my opinion. To clarify, the broach that Grillby is wearing is what he ended up making Bon into. I might do an extras chapter on that, but I would like to solidify the exact scene where Bon is killed first. If anyone is interested in the stories of during the war according to this story, let me know. Otherwise I might not bother to really post them. **

** This MUST be said: If anyone, at all, is dealing or believes that they are dealing with any kind of abuse, mental issues, eating issues, anxiety, etc... PLEASE seek help! It does not need to be professional at first. Tell a friend. Tell a teacher. Tell a cousin. YOUR VOICE MUST BE HEARD, AND IT DESERVES TO BE HEARD! If someone tells you that you are overreacting, forget them. Stand up for yourself and search for someone who cares. That person may also be the person you least expect. No one deserves to suffer, especially not in silence. If you can't find someone to say it, then here it is, right now. YOU ARE WORTH IT! HOLD ON! Life and time are cruel, but they also are merciful after a while. Once you break through this, it WILL be worth it, and you will feel a newly found strength like you never have before! Stay safe, please! **

** Stay Safe and remember,**

** YOU ARE LOVED~!**


	24. Extra 1: Character Q&A

Character Q&A:

-: = Given question

( ) = Sidenote

[ ] = Interviewer's voice

Gaster-

Gender: Technically, monsters don't have genders, but by human standard, male, I suppose.

Age: Well, you're a rude one, aren't you? (2,539 (early fifties to monster standards due to health))

Race: Skeletal humanoid monster. As a doctor, I suggest an eye exam.

Job: Former Royal Scientist and Doctor, currently waiting on the title of "World Renown Scientist…" What?

Hobby: Studying human cultures.

Guilty pleasure: My guilty pleasure? I mean, I'm not really guilty of anything… (TED Talks)

Talker: Are we almost done? … Alright, maybe a little when it comes to my work and the scientific field.

Physical health: Does it matter? (Signs of minor bone decay, half blind in right eye, high glucose levels due to candy, minor insomniac, weak joints)

Mental health: We all have issues, yes? (Who the fuck knows)

Smoker: Formerly. Decided to quit one day. I believe the humans call it 'cold chicken.' Or was it turkey? (Now has a desk drawer dedicated strictly to candy)

Veteran: In a sense, yes. (Medic)

Bad temper: Only for racists and idiots with moronic questions. Next?

Family: My two sons! Sans, my eldest, and Papyrus, my youngest. You should have seen them the… (carries on for hours)

Partner/Crush: Oh please, I have no time for such trivial things… (Once had a crush, centuries ago, on one of the soldiers, but no one ever knew)

Favorite aspect of the Surface: Well, I'm absolutely fascinated with astronomy lately! Have you heard of the black hole photograph? Astounding the way that the li- [Interview Ends]

Grillby-

Gender: Male, if you haven't guessed.

Age: 2,535. About my mid to late thirties by monster standards.

Race: Fire elemental. Specifically, the humanoid form.

Job: C-Current, or all? [All, please] Oh… F-Former general, retired police officer, and current bar owner, bartender, server, chef, and busser.

Hobby: Don't really have one. I'd say cooking, but that's my job.

Guilty pleasure: Cooking competition shows… and… shoes. (And walking around naked)

Talker: Not really, when it comes to myself.

Physical health: T-That's a bit of a long story… (Limited back movement, close in on thirty major surgeries in lifetime, damaged lungs, over fifty scars, etc…)

Mental health: Well… PTSD is my biggest. Followed by paranoia and anxiety. I _despise_ when Gaster forces me to have a physical! Occasional self-deprecation and depression… I'm sorry, can we move on?

Smoker: Tch, why don't you ask our 'dear doctor?' (Forced to quit for fear of being dusted by Gaster's rage. Currently uses essential oil vape pens to supplement.)

Veteran: . . . (Former general to the Monster Army)

Bad temper: You'd have to do something pretty… despicable to get me that angry. (i.e. attack someone with intent to seriously harm/kill)

Family: My sister, Helies, and my beautiful niece, Fuku!

Partner/Crush: My bonded, Clara! She's the sweetest thing, I'm so proud of her!

Favorite aspect of the Surface: It was once the sunset. But I think I'm beginning to prefer the sunrise, now. I much preferred the weather Underground, though. Far more predictable.

Clara-

Gender: Female; she, her, hers pronouns.

Age: 24

Race: Human

Job: I'm working as Dr. Gaster's assistant, sort of.

Hobby: Well, Grillby's teaching me to cook, Gaster's constantly interviewing me about human stuff… Going to stores with Fuku is nice, even if we don't buy anything!

Guilty pleasure: … I don't have any… (Watching Grillby sleep shirtless)

Talker: Only on things I'm really passionate about. I'm kinda scared to say the wrong thing.

Physical health: Um… Rather not say, considering I don't know you. (Recovering anorexic/bulimic, recovering anemic, hypoglycemic)

Mental health: Again, that's not really something I wanna say. (Anxiety, paranoia, depression, self-deprecation, anorexic/bulimic thoughts, trauma based around physical abuse)

Smoker: Nope, can barely stand being around a lit cigarette.

Veteran: No. Kinda glad I'm not.

Bad temper: I don't think I've ever really lost my temper in the way most people think. I used to yell a lot when I was a kid, though!

Family: My mom, Margret, my dad, John, and my brother, Richard, are my immediate family. But now I have Fuku as my… niece-in-law? She's more of a sister-in-law, though!

Partner/Crush: Grillby… Hee hee!

Favorite aspect of the Surface: Hm… never thought about it. I guess rainy days.

Fuku-

Gender: Female

Age: 322, so kinda around Clara's age in human years.

Race: Fire elemental! Da- Uncle Grillby says I have my grandma's flames!

Job: About to graduate from college for cultural studies, so I guess that's my job.

Hobby: Shopping!

Guilty pleasure: More shopping!

Talker: I could talk for hours!

Physical health: I'm good!

Mental health: I get worried about Grillby sometimes, but aside from that, I'm sorta the therapist for my friend group. (No known issues)

Smoker: I tried it once. Don't see why dad liked it so much. Ugh, I mean Uncle Grillby! [Do you think your uncle would be upset if he found out?] Oh, he knows! He wasn't thrilled, but he's just glad that I'm not still smoking.

Veteran: … I don't know if I would serve if there was a reason to. I've seen what it did to dad… But I want to protect him.

Bad temper: You talked to dad, didn't you? Look, he was asking for it! He called my friend a spineless fatass, so I just smashed a few pressure points on his spine, shoved my foot up his ass and said "who's spineless now?" He had it coming…

Family: My mom, Helies, and my Uncle Grillby. Oh, and Aunt Clara! My real dad? … Forget him, he's an asshole who left us.

Partner/Crush: Does a celebrity crush count, since I don't have a normal one? [Yes] Then Mettaton…'s cousin! He's so good with music! Way too shy for me though. I want someone who can keep up!

Favorite aspect of the Surface: Grass! [. . .] No, not _that_ grass! Like on hills and stuff! I may be a fire elemental, but that stuff is like an Earth blanket!

Sans-

Gender: Dude

Age: Human or Monster? [Both] Well, it's a shame I'm not a human. Otherwise, I could tell ya! (503 monster/28 human)

Race: Er, my Pops has some glasses you could borrow. (Skeletal humanoid monster)

Job: I was on sentry back Underground. Kinda goin' freelance lately. (No job)

Hobby: Synthesizin' (music)

Guilty pleasure: Wow, little personal there, huh? [That's a fetish you're thinking of.] Whoops! Heh heh, let's move along, shall we?

Talker: Depends. Mostly no.

Physical health: Normal? That's an acceptable answer, right? (Extremely low HP meter, but manages well, signs of narcolepsy)

Mental health: You workin' with my Pops or something? Nah, I'm good. Happier than usual, actually. (Worry-wart, minor paranoia)

Smoker: … Look, I've been tryin' ta quit. [Have you tried vaping pens or candy?] Phft! Those pens don't do shit for me, and Pops would just steal my candy and claim it's 'for my health.' He's just eating it, I know it.

Veteran: Nah.

Bad temper: Who's askin'?

Family: My Pops, and my little bro, Papyrus! Half the time I'm makin' sure the two of 'em are keepin' out of trouble. Papyrus has a tendency to be too friendly around humans, and my old man works himself too much.

Partner/Crush: W-W-Why would you ask s-somethin' like that, bud? (Currently going steady with Frisk, who is near Clara's age)

Favorite aspect of the Surface: Hm… I guess just bein' here.

Papyrus-

Gender: Hm, well we monsters do not determine gender like humans do. Male, I suppose!

Age: 488! (26 in human years)

Race: Why a Skeleton, of course! Are you feeling alright? I know humans try to not be racist, but some things are quite obvious.

Job: Capitan of the Royal Guard! I am its one and only member, which is fine! I accompany Asgore when he goes to plant conventions! Who knew there were so many different kinds of leaves!

Hobby: Cooking! The humans have so many pastas and recipes! Lady Toriel has been helping me perfect my skills.

Guilty pleasure: Seeing my big brother and father spending quality time together… Which usually consists of falling asleep while watching television.

Talker: Absolutely! Not many can keep up with the speed and quality speeches of The Great Papyrus!

Physical health: Stupendous! (Very fit, but does not show it)

Mental health: Super stupendous!

Smoker: Ugh, no. Father and Sans used to, or do, and the stench-! Once Father smoked all night long and it took me days to get his room aired out!

Veteran: No, but I would love to work with animals! Just not that Annoying Dog… (Interviewers cannot bare to tell Papyrus they did not mean Veterinarian)

Bad temper: Temper, absolutely not! I am above such foolishness!

Family: I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but my father, Gaster, and big brother, Sans. I care about them so much, but they do worry me sometimes. Father worries about others to a point where he forgets to worry about himself. I feel like Sans is the same. I know he's always looking out for me, and I do notice, but I don't think he notices how I worry about him. [Your mother?] Oh! … Oh… You know, I don't know… I used to ask Father when I was little, but he always told me 'when I was older.' I guess it slipped his mind.

Partner/Crush: Oh! Are you looking for that dirt that Alphys is always looking for? I did not know you were a geologist as well! (Crush on Mettaton, but doesn't realize it.)

Favorite aspect of the Surface: The humans!

_. ._

**Author's Notes: Sorry about the little hiatus there! Not much to this besides a little insight to some of our mains and sides! Writing Papyrus's innocence is so refreshing from Gaster's dickishness. He really is a loving father, I swear! I feel Papy and Fuku would be a wonderful and slightly dangerous combination of friends. I chose to exclude Frisk because since they are the ambassador, they're very busy and have had far too many interviews in the past.**

**Gaster: You just forgot up until now, didn't you?**

**... Need I remind you who the writer is here? **

**Grillby: Yeah, again, thanks for that...**

**Your sarcasm is my own music to my own ears!**

**Stay Safe, Lovelies~!**


	25. Extra 2: Not Very Sly

Extra 2; Not Very Sly

"Good evening, Grillby." The royal scientist trudged into the Snowdin bar, stomping the snow off of his dress shoes and approaching the counter. The place was lit with hurricane lamps and candle sconces, due to the lack of power to the small town. Most of the light came from the fire elemental. The elemental and bartender turned to him, a small smile greeting him.

"Evening, Doctor. Usual?" He turned back to the backbar, going about his business. Said doctor settled down into his bar stool, slumping a little with a grunt.

"Please."

"You alright?" Grillby glanced over his shoulder.

"Yes, just exhausted. The Core is draining me of all my resources, monetarily, supply-wise, and physically." He mumbled as he leaned his head in his hands, a fabric brace still wrapped around one of the appendages. The bartender swirled the mulled wine in his hand before placing it in front of the skeleton. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. You'll get it up and running; you're stubborn like that." Grillby scoffed. For a moment, he thought he saw the man's white pinpricks for eyes flash a hint of skepticism, but it digressed.

"I prefer the term 'resolute,' thank you." Gaster had a hint of ice to his tone. He noted a scent stuck to the outside of his glass, thick and chemical. He brought his hand up to his chin again, discreetly checking to see if he had spilled anything on it during his workday. Nothing. Grillby gave a small smirk at his friend's demeanor, but was quickly distracted by a habitual anxious urge.

"I'm gonna go clean the grill, I'll be right back." Before Gaster could say anything, Grillby slipped into the back, darting immediately for the backdoor. Shutting it behind him, the elemental pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with his shaking hand. "Finally…" He leaned against the wall of the bar with a sharp exhale. The was snow melted from the countless times he's taken breaks there. A dog food dish sat a few feet away, filled with grey snow and packs of spent cigarette butts. Undamaged packs of cigarettes were difficult to come by underground, thus were quite expensive. Most of Grillby's personal money was spent on this horrible habit. No more than three minutes later, he dropped the butt into the bowl, pulled out a small tin from his pocket, and chewed on a mint from it. He glanced at the grill when he came back in._ It can wait. _

While his long-term friend was 'cleaning the grill,' Gaster took the time to investigate his glass. Being there was no one else in the bar due to a snowstorm, he was not embarrassed to sniff the outside of the class. If the smell had not been from his hands, it had to have been from Grillby's, he deduced. He knew that smell, and it was smoky enough to still be relatively recent. The nosey scientist glanced at the backroom door before he leaned over the bar, looking for any signs. Sitting back down, he saw an approaching orange glow from the beyond the backdoor.

"So, how's Hotland treatin' ya?" Grillby inquired as he returned.

"I've been utilizing the excessive heat output. Still don't understand why you don't set up shop there; surely, you would be far more comfortable." As the smoker sighed, Gaster took note to the residual smell of a cigarette and… mint?

"I've told you; it doesn't suit the bar's style. Hotland isn't exactly calm or a place that people go to relax." Yes, that was definitely mint on the monster's breath. _Does he seriously think that a mint will help? _

"True. How's little Fuku?" Gaster remembered how Grillby and Helies, his sister, had yet another fight. The elemental groaned as he polished a glass.

"Helies has had a problem with me being around her lately. Fuku _wants_ to be with me, I don't see what the problem is." Gaster could make a decent guess… "She's been having a few small issues with controlling her flames, and Helies doesn't know much about that. She _knows_ that I can help."

"You need to keep your calm, Grillbert, you cannot snap at her like when you were kids."

"I don't! She just can't let one thing go…"

"It's going to take time, even if it's centuries." Gaster watched as Grillby fought back his tongue; he had a tendency to defend himself.

"I'll… be back…" He passed through the swinging backdoor, but Gaster caught sight of him pulling a cigarette from his pocket when the door swung back. Grillby slunk back to his spot against the outside wall, grateful he did not need to fidget with a lighter. "Fuck… this…" Closing his eyes, he rested his head back and took a massive drag.

"Care to explain…" Grillby near screamed when his friend's voice threatened him, inhaling so fast he delved into coughs.

"Fuck's sake, Gaster! Stop doing that!" The skeleton's face contorted to a rage Grillby had not seen since the war. The white bone was already shading a slight purple.

"Stop doing that?_ Stop doing that?_ You think _I'm_ the one who needs to stop? You've come out to smoke _twice_ since I've come in; and look at this!" He walked over and picked up the dog bowl of cigarette butts. "When was this emptied, yesterday?" Grillby looked away, getting rather pissed now.

"Three days ago, don't be ridiculo-"

"There's probably close to thirty, maybe even forty in here!"

"Like it matters, I'm made of fire, smoke does nothing to m-"

"_Nothing?_" The skeleton gripped Grillby's collar as he dropped the bowl, pressing him against the wall. Grillby was too shocked to retaliate. Gaster's face was nearly enveloped in a dark purple now, his canines becoming rather prominent as he bore them dangerous, his words biting sickeningly. "Do you remember _nothing_ of the smoke bombs? I spent days healing your people! How fucking _dare_ you-" He pulled back and hit the man into the wall just hard enough to shake him "-claim that it does nothing! Do you have _any_ idea-" Gaster dropped his collar to smack him across the face. "-what is in that? It's more than just smoke! Your health is bad enough as it is, and you're going to destroy yourself like _this_?" The hand came back again. "Do you want to fucking dowse? I risked my_self, hundreds of times, to save you!_" Gaster grabbed his shirt and, with impressive strength for the thin man, threw the former general to the ground. Reaching down, he ripped the cigarette pack from Grillby's pocket, opened them up, and disposing of them into the half-melted snow, ruining them more as he ground his heel into them. "Well, I'm not going to let all my work go to waste because of _your_ stupidity! So, you know what…" He pulled another pack from his own pocket this time, doing the same thing to them. Grillby, fearful from never having seen his friend like this before, looked up confused to him. Gaster reached down and helped the elemental up, still a bit rough with him. "Either you cut this shit out, or I'm done with you._ Got it?_" Shoving him against the wall one more time, Gaster walked around the corner of the building, still scowling.

Grillby just stared at the corner, feeling both sides of his face starting to swell from the abuse. The dog bowl was spilled over the ground, mixed in with the crushed, wasted smokes.

Gaster cursed as he got a shock as he wired a panel for a steam vent. He mood had not improved since last night, and it seemed to only deter his work. Many of his coworkers had decided to give him his space, assuming that he was just exhausted from the past month. For that past month, he had been attempting to quit smoking, but his temperance suffered.

"Fucking… damn it…" Out of habit, he reached in his pocket, only to find it empty. Working on wires with shaking bones was never a good idea, but he had a job to do. He glanced behind him, letting out a small whine at the mere four feet from him and the edge that plunged down to the magma below. His minor fear of heights did not help either. The walkway he was on was stable, but the way footsteps echoed on it set him on edge. _Bad pun… ugh…_ Most the time he shuffled in half-strides down it.

A moment or two later, he felt said footsteps vibrating down towards him. He was not in the mood for more bad news. "What is it this time?" When he didn't get an answer, he nearly lost it. "_What_-" He stopped himself. "Grillbert?"

Gaster was not only shocked to see him, but immensely concerned. There was security to get through; not only that, but he had to have gone through half of the Core to get to him. The dangers were endless… He was wearing his usual white button down, vest, slacks, and dress shoes, but held a paper bag filled with… something.

"What do you think you're doing here, it's dangerous?" Gaster did not move, afraid he'd disturb something that was sleeping… or waiting. Grillby looked at the walkway, then to the scientist, detached. He tossed the bag to the side, over the edge. As it fell, close to twenty packs of cigarettes spilled out, slapping into the magma, immediately combusting. A thick, recognizable smoke wafted up to them. "You…" Was all Gaster could say. Grillby pocketed his hands, turning away and retreated to where he had come.

. .

**Author's Notes: Bad title, I know, shush... This is the backstory to Grillby's chain smoking problem. While he's taken quite the beating from the war, being beaten by your nearly lifelong companion sure does rattle you!  
There was a small easter egg in this. The line "Gaster did not move, afraid he'd disturb something that was sleeping… or waiting" references to when Gaster would have died in this timeline in the Core, if he had moved. Gaster was always careful on the platforms, but he would have been too distracted by his friend, didn't notice his footing, and slips. From then on, Grillby would have remained silent due to his guilt. He only speaks at the true pacifist end when he thanks Frisk. **

** I only have one more extra for you, and it is more of a plot springboard. It will not be a part of what would have actually happened, but just a general brainstorm.**

**Stay Safe, Lovelies~!**


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